The Worst Game to Play
by brwrites
Summary: Hunger Games AU. Alison is the sister of a victor who has the world in the palm of her hand but no one by her side. Emily is the kind-hearted daughter of a peacekeeper. Emison.
1. The worst is yet to come

Mornings in the DiLaurentis household were always quiet. The soft patter of Alison's footsteps against the hardwood floor barely touched the silence. Everything here was immaculate, from the polished shelves to the fancy glass vase adorning the dining room table. Nice and perfect and quiet, just how it should be. Perfect and quiet and fake.

Jessica DiLaurentis always said appearances were everything. Here they had a perfect mansion that half of district two would die for, and not just figuratively. All the kids at school were beyond impressed that Alison had a victor brother and all the money and attention she could ever want.

And Alison did love the attention, both from locals and from the Capitol. Jason's victory five years ago had been somewhat of a fluke. After the Games, the reporters found the most marketable thing about him was his twelve-year-old sister. Alison soaked up the attention from the first time she was on camera. It felt good to be adored; to have everyone know her name. Appearances were everything, and, as far as Alison was concerned, hers made her flawless.

But on mornings like this, she was unnerved by the quiet of the house. They were supposed to have everything. They should be as happy as the world thought they were.

Her father was nowhere to be found, as usual. Her mother was most likely still knocked out from the sleeping pills she took each night. Alison didn't mind, because it was Reaping Day and two DiLaurentis women on edge could escalate to a heated, even physical argument within minutes. Jason was no doubt in his usual zombie-mode. All the money in the world and he chose to spend it importing in morphling tablets from district six. Freaking _morphling tablets_ were his life now.

Alison had no trouble telling everyone just how pathetic her brother was, that he was not victor material at all, but sometimes she'd look at him and feel her heart clench. The brother she used to know was long gone, replaced by this lifeless entity. Sometimes she had nightmares of being forced down the same path.

Of course, it had all started with a reaping.

"You're up early," came a sleepy voice from behind. It was so sharp against the silence that it made Ali jump. Her muscles relaxed when she realized it was only her mother.

Alison flipped her hair and frowned. "I'm always up early. You're the one who's usually dead to the world until lunchtime."

Jessica DiLaurentis stared back with an unamused expression. "Alison, don't challenge me today. I need to get your brother up and ready for the ceremony." She paused to sigh and blinked for so long Ali thought she might fall asleep on the spot. "I need cooperation for the next few hours. It's only a few hours, then everything is back to normal," she mumbled, eyes still closed.

"Unless I get picked," Alison whispered, voicing thoughts that had plagued her mind for weeks. It wasn't uncommon for siblings of victors to end up in the Hunger Games. Especially when said siblings were already widely known by the Capitol. Alison was seventeen. She was smart enough to calculate the odds.

"Don't talk like that," Jessica fired back.

Her tone made Alison stand up straighter. A flash of annoyance rippled through her. Words were out her mouth before she could even deliberate them. "Don't you dare say it can't happen. Who knows, maybe I'll even volunteer."

The threat was empty, but she knew she had screwed up when her mother's eyes began to bulge.

"I need to get dressed," Ali muttered, turning on her heel to escape the inevitable lecture on how fighting fire with fire is not the same as throwing yourself into flames. Her mother had more or less lost one kid already. Alison being reaped would destroy her.

It might destroy Ali, too.

* * *

A red flag fluttered in the wind, warning sailors against sending boats out into the ravenous sea. Choppy waves broke on the sandbar and white caps reached the ankles of three girls standing near the shore.

Emily Fields held up the edges of her white linen dress to keep it from getting soaked. Normally, she wouldn't care, but this was her only dress for special occasions. Her two friends, Aria and Hanna, were dressed similarly in light, airy dresses typical of the ocean district.

The reaping ceremony would start soon. It was a tradition for the three of them to meet on the beach each year in case the worst happened. They never knew what to say during times like these. There was a fine line between acceptable and inappropriate; no one wanted to joke about the Hunger Games, but full out goodbyes only left them anxious.

For a while, the only sound was the roaring of the sea. Emily bent down to pick up a shell and skipped it across the water. It bounced three times before being captured by a wave.

Hanna tried to do the same, but hers plopped and sank the second it hit water.

"It never works for me," she complained, running a hand through her short, blonde hair.

"Hanna, that's because all you're doing is throwing it underhand. You're supposed to throw it sideways and flick your wrist," Emily explained, somewhat amused.

"The last time I tried that, it went the wrong way and almost hit some kid," she retorted.

"Guys, what's that?" Aria asked, and Emily shifted her gaze to the direction the petite brunette was pointing.

A good twenty feet away, there was a gull lying on the shore. Most likely from the storm that came through last night.

"It's a dead bird, Aria. It's not like we haven't seen one before," Hanna answered.

Aria's eyes were wide. "I know…" she started. "But…that's the second bad omen today. I don't know, I just have a feeling something really bad is going to happen."

Emily and Hanna exchanged a glance. Aria was the most superstitious of the three, so it wasn't surprising. Even if they didn't believe in it like she did, neither of them wanted to hear it on a day when nightmares could very well come true.

"What was the other omen?" Emily asked before Hanna could butt in.

"Well, today's a Friday," Aria said matter-of-factly.

"So?" Hanna questioned.

"Ezra said Fridays have been bad luck for this region since before Panem even existed. Anyone who leaves to go on a journey on that day never returns home. That's why district four never has a victor when the reaping is on a Friday."

Hanna rolled her eyes. "Friday is the best day of the week."

Emily furrowed her eyebrows. "Sorry, Aria, but I'm going to have to go with Hanna on this one. Friday is just a day. It doesn't mean anything."

"I hope you're right," Aria said, sounding unconvinced.

"Em, I think your dad's coming," Hanna said.

Emily brushed away a long lock of dark hair that the wind blew into her face and saw that, sure enough, her father was at the edge of the sand dunes, headed towards them. He was already dressed in his peacekeeper uniform, something that was seen as threatening to most of the district, but not to Emily. Never to Emily. Peacekeeper or not, he was her dad, plain and simple.

"Girls, it's time to head out," he said when he was within earshot.

The three girls complied easily, following the older man past the beach and the wharf, finally arriving at the center of town. Before he left, Wayne Fields took his daughter aside and pulled her into a hug.

"Emmy, whatever happens, you know I love you and that your mother and I are always proud of you. I heard she's making your favorite meal tonight. Don't tell her I said anything," he winked and planted a kiss on her head.

Emily smiled in return. "Can't wait. I love you, too," she said before leaving to navigate through the older teenagers.

It was all overwhelming. There were people at every turn, some looking terrified and others unusually excited. Emily didn't like the thought of training and volunteering, but she would be lying if she said that she didn't breathe a sigh of relief when someone did volunteer. Maybe it was selfish, but knowing there was a possibility of someone being willing to take your place loosened the knots in her chest.

Throughout the familiar rebellion speech, she stole glances at the victors. There were quite a few of them lined up. The ones standing on the end would be this year's mentors. There was Meredith, a woman in her twenties with straight blonde hair and a menacing grin. Rumor had it that the stress of her Games had caused something to snap within her. When pushed, she could be dangerous.

Still, Meredith wasn't as scary as Cyrus. He always looked wooden, but Emily clearly remembered what he could do with a knife. She could still hear the screams of pain emitted from the allies he turned on.

Emily was lost in these thoughts when she heard something that made her freeze in her spot.

And just like that, it only took a moment for everything to fall apart. Her legs quaked and her heart felt close to exploding. Adrenaline rushed to her head. She didn't know whether to take off running somewhere, anywhere far away from here, or simply break down sobbing.

Her thoughts weren't coherent enough to allow her the chance to make a decision. _Emily Fields_. For once, she hated the name. Couldn't even imagine it being connected to her.

"_Emily Fields!" _The voice called for a third time. Emily blankly scanned the hundreds of eyes glued to her. Then she met Hanna's blue ones. A little further to the left was Aria, looking ghostly white.

None of this was okay in the slightest, but something finally clicked. The voice amplified through the Square was becoming impatient. She had to move.

One unsteady leg in front the other, she made her way to the stage. She felt tiny and vulnerable, like the whole place might swallow her whole before she could reach the top of the steps.

Her breathing refused to return to a normal rate the entire time she stood onstage. She barely noticed when a sixteen-year-old with reddish hair was called to be the male tribute.

The same few sentences repeated in her head like a recording. She was Emily Fields, daughter of a peacekeeper who moved around districts. She was decent in academics and excelled in swimming. When it came to everything else, she was average or below. She was not strong enough for this. No, she was too weak to be a warrior.

* * *

It wasn't a surprise, really.

Alison was expecting her name to be called for the past two years now. Those who said the reapings couldn't be rigged were full of crap.

Her expression had only faltered for a second before she pulled herself together and put on a confident smile. Hopefully no one would pick up on the way her eyes were slightly widened, her gait a little stiff. She wouldn't allow them to see her as weak.

So she held it together. Grinned at Noel Kahn when he volunteered beside her. Kept her head high as she was escorted off stage.

Now she was waiting in the Justice Building for her last visitors. It was considerably more difficult to avoid thinking of all that was about to happen when she was left alone with her thoughts. She tapped her foot on the tiled floor and focused on the calming rhythm. Surely people would be coming any second now. Hordes of them.

Her taps started getting quicker and closer together. She felt her throat tighten when a peacekeeper said she had two minutes left.

Where the hell was her family? Her "friends"?

She took in a sharp breath when she heard the door finally open, but the real surprise was the person standing in the entrance.

It was Spencer Hastings, Ali's old neighbor. They were close when they were younger, always at each other's houses and trying to outdo one another. Alison had basically abandoned Spencer once Jason became a victor and the DiLaurentis family became celebrities in the district.

Now here she was.

Spencer's eyes glanced around the room, taking everything in, before her gaze landed on the blonde. Alison tugged at the edge of her sleeve. It wasn't often that she was at a loss for what to say.

"I expected more people to be here," Spencer said finally.

Ali felt herself getting defensive. An excuse was at the tip of her tongue, but she decided against it. "Yeah, me too," she said instead.

"Your brother's mentoring you?" the girl asked, and Ali nodded.

"One minute," the peacekeeper reminded them in a gruff voice.

Ali opened her mouth to speak. "Spencer, I know it's been a while-"

"No," Spencer cut her off. "Look, I don't know if you even want me here or not, but I came anyway to give you something." She dug into her pocket and pulled out a familiar purple bracelet. Alison's name was embroidered in white letters on the side.

It was once her most prized possession, until she was given real gold and silver jewelry, courtesy of the Capitol.

"That's been at your house all this time?" Ali asked as she took it from the tall brunette.

"I kept it just in case you ever decided to come back for it," she replied.

Alison blinked in surprise. The gesture confused her. If she were in Spencer's shoes, she probably would've either thrown away or burned the stupid bracelet.

"Time's up," the peacekeeper announced. He gripped Ali by the arm, tighter than she cared for, and led her out the building. Alison turned back just long enough to tell Spencer "thanks". Soon after, the doors were shut and the youngest Hastings was out of sight.

She clicked the bracelet around her wrist and stared straight ahead as she boarded the train. If no one else could be bothered to say goodbye, would they even care if she didn't make it back alive?

A tear almost threatened to escape, but she blinked it away furiously. There was no way she was going to let this get to her. She was a fighter, and she'd return home whether they liked it or not, if only just to see the looks on their faces.

It wasn't like she needed them, anyway.

* * *

**A/N: Hey, everyone. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this AU. I'm aware that stories like this have been done before, but it's always possible to do a different take on it. Please review if you liked it! Feel free to pressure me to update, but be nice about it :p Writing is time consuming so it's nice to have motivation. I'm pretty excited about this and I have a lot of ideas! **


	2. I've seen you before

**A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed/favorited/added this story to alerts! I wasn't expecting so much response to the first chapter. **

* * *

The world out the window was a blur of intermingled gray and green. It was only a matter of time now until the earthy tones would give way to shapes of the tall buildings of the Capitol. District two was fairly close to the heart of Panem, only about an hour or two away by train.

Everything was moving so fast. Ali needed more time to strategize, because right now, her thoughts were racing and everything she could come up with was crammed together in a meaningless mush, much like the scenery flashing by on the other side of the glass.

There was a tap on her shoulder and Alison stiffened, expecting it to be Jason. But when she turned around, she was met with the sight of Noel Kahn. He was grinning stupidly and holding at least four cookies in his hand. Ali was pretty sure he hadn't stopped eating since their evening meal was served.

She was also pretty sure he didn't understand that his wolf-like eating made him look like an uncivilized savage. It was pretty disgusting, but as long as it made her look better in comparison, Alison didn't mind.

"You know, you don't look very excited," Noel said. He raised one dark eyebrow questioningly and stuffed one of the cookies into his mouth. After a few chews and a hard swallow, he added, "It's no secret your brother is a stick in the mud, but that doesn't mean you have to act like one, too."

"I'm nothing like my brother," Alison replied automatically. "If I was, I'd be hiding in one of the back rooms like an antisocial freak."

That made Noel grin again. "I almost wish you were. Then I'd have no competition for sponsors."

Normally, Alison wasn't bothered by Noel, but he was only tolerable in small doses, and that was when she was in a _good_ mood.

The blonde scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Please, like that would ever happen. And you do realize all the sponsor money goes in a single fund for the district, right? Or did you choose to get yourself into this without any knowledge of how the Games work at all?"

Noel only looked more amused. Alison wanted to smack the smirk off his face.

"I've been preparing for this for a long time, Alison. So have you. Though I haven't seen you at the academy in a while. Where exactly have you been?"

"I'm sure you'd love to know what I do in my free time," Alison answered with a tight-lipped fake smile.

They were interrupted then by their escort bustling into the room. He was a short, stout man named Placidius with a moustache too large for his face and an absolutely nauseating sense of optimism.

"We're right on schedule, see?" he burst out, holding up a pocket watch as if Noel and Alison could read it. "In precisely five minutes, we'll pull up at the train station and you two can meet your future fans! Now someone go fetch the mentors! Hurry!" he chirped.

Grateful for an excuse to leave the room, Alison got up and headed for the hallway of bedrooms near the back of the train. Jason was in the first room to the left. When Alison peeked in, she found him sitting upright on the bed. His skin was pale and large, empty eyes stared in her direction.

It was clear he wasn't intending on mentoring this year. Maybe that was a good thing; maybe it meant he cared about sister enough to look out for her. Or maybe he would hold it against her for making him have to spend a month in a place that haunted him.

The other victors had to know there was something up with him, right? It wasn't her problem to worry about, but Alison didn't like the thought of Capitol people taking one look at his dazed expression and casting judgment on him.

"Mom and Dad said they expect you to fight hard," Jason said without moving or changing expression.

Alison stepped further to the room. "It would've been nice to hear that from them," she said quietly, crossing her arms.

She was grateful when Jason moved and seemed to contemplate a response. He ran his hand through his messy blond hair and sighed. "Ali, you know it's hard for them. Mom couldn't say goodbye twice." A moment passed before he added, "Especially not to you."

"What do you mean by that?" Alison asked.

"C'mon, you know what I mean," Jason said. "You've always been their favorite. Me, they could handle losing. You're the kid they wanted to hold onto."

_Well it doesn't feel that way, _Ali thought, but this was Jason she was talking to. Heavy, emotional conversations weren't a hallmark of their relationship. Her skin was already prickling in discomfort.

"If you think so…" she trailed off, shrugging her shoulders and trying to sound nonchalant. She glanced out the door and reluctantly brought her eyes back to her brother. "We should be pulling up at the station any second now. I was told to come get you."

* * *

A lot about the Capitol was a mystery to Emily. She didn't know how anyone could eat so much food every day without getting a stomach ache. She didn't understand what Cyrus meant when he cornered her and her district partner right before getting off the train and warned them to be careful what they talk about.

The buttons on the shower didn't make sense, and the biggest mystery of all was how she could lay in the most comfortable bed she had ever encountered and spend the whole night thinking that she preferred the old, hard mattress that rested on the floor at home.

Emily was actually surprised when she woke up in the morning- she didn't remember dozing off at all. Not when the clock said it was past midnight or when she heard the avoxes start moving around outside her door in the early hours of the morning.

It couldn't have been very deep a sleep at all. The feeling of eyes on her was enough to make her jolt awake. She gaped in confusion at the sight of her mentor, Meredith, standing at the foot of her bed with a knife in her hand.

"Good morning?" Emily asked tentatively. Her eyes were on the knife as she backed up and hit her shoulders against the headboard. The weapon didn't look very sharp at all, but it was attached to a slightly unstable trained killer, and that was enough to make Emily's voice waver.

"You look terrified," Meredith said. Her expression was unamused as she looked down and ran her fingers over the edge of the knife. "They never give me anyone good to work with."

Emily felt her cheeks heat up. If this was a test to evaluate her, she was off to a bad start. "It was just a little unexpected to see you there, that's all," she said.

Meredith looked up at her. "Don't count on expecting anything in the arena. My guess is you'll be dead within the first twelve hours."

The young woman cracked a smile that didn't look genuine and promptly exited the room. Emily was horrified.

She jumped out of bed and looked at herself in the full-length mirror built into the closet door.

Her dark eyes were bloodshot from a lack of sleep and her long, black hair was unkempt from tossing and turning, but other than that, she didn't look bad. She was tall and her tan skin was healthy and glowing. It was an athlete's body, far from the scrawny, underfed look typical of tributes from the outer districts.

The idea of being in the Hunger Games was more than daunting and she didn't consider herself capable of the brutality it would take to win, but she didn't look weak. Meredith clearly thought she did, though.

She could see her bottom lip quivering in her reflection. It dawned upon her that a strong exterior would mean nothing if it was transparent. Her fear was seeping through, revealing itself through body language and expressions.

Emily never considered herself to be an actor. She didn't know how to hide fear, but she could already feel the beginnings of self-preservation kicking in, telling her she had to learn fast if she wanted to survive.

Her throat was dry as she got dressed and joined the others for breakfast. No one said a word. There was barely any eye contact, aside from occasional evaluative peeks at one another. Emily couldn't help feeling like she was sitting in on the most dysfunctional family breakfast ever. Couldn't help being worried that her silence was being interpreted as shyness. Weakness.

"Maybe we should watch the reapings and see what we're up against," Emily said to clear the silence. Meredith and Harvey, the male tribute, cast a glance in her direction.

"I watched the recap last night," Harvey said while brushing crumbs off the tablecloth. He sounded disinterested.

Meredith studied her for a few seconds and then turned her attention elsewhere, apparently ignoring her. Emily kind of regretted saying anything.

* * *

Alison smiled at her reflection on side of the polished chariot. She never went anywhere without looking presentable, but tonight, she was something else entirely. She wasn't just beautiful; she was absolutely stunning.

Her midnight black top and skirt shined with the glassy complexion of obsidian. Silver armor draped around her shoulders and waist. Her blonde hair fell in perfect curls and her head was adorned with a black-diamond encrusted crown. Dark eye makeup contrasted beautifully against icy blue eyes.

Alluring and dangerous. It was exactly how she wanted to be seen. There was a certain thrill that came with wearing a costume. It made it so much easier to slip into a persona and fully embody all the characteristics that came along with it. Looking strong made Alison feel strong. The hours of torture involved in getting ready were more than worth it.

Alison surveyed the scene around her. The Tribute Parade had not yet started and hardly anyone was in their designated spot. She caught sight of Noel flirting with the girl from district one and shook her head. What a shock.

The district three chariot directly behind her was still empty. District four was a few feet further back. There was a dark-haired girl standing to the side, looking in Alison's direction attentively. As soon as they made eye contact, the girl's eyes flitted away.

Alison took a closer look. The girl was dressed as a mermaid. Sparkling fabric of soft hues clung to her from the waist down and flared out at her ankles, like a fin. Her top, if it could even be considered one, was comprised of a sea shell bra that didn't cover much.

Ali was careful not to let her eyes linger too long. The girl was easily one of the most attractive tributes here, but there was something else that Ali couldn't place. Maybe it was her hair, or something, but there was definitely an air of familiarity about her. She resembled someone from home.

Not being able to call to memory who it was quickly frustrated Alison. She realized she had been staring for a while when the girl's eyes met hers again. Ali turned away, not wanting to look like a creep, but it wasn't long before she found herself stealing another glance.

And the girl was looking at her. Again.

Ali tilted her head questioningly. She made a split decision to walk over to the district four chariot.

"Do you need something?" Alison asked. Her voice wasn't harsh, but it was firm and not particularly friendly.

"No," the girl answered quickly, eyes wide. "I was just…um, I like your costume," she said.

Alison narrowed her eyes. She wasn't sure what to make of the situation, but the girl looked harmless enough, and she still needed to figure out what about her was so familiar.

"Thanks," Ali replied. "Yours is nice, too. It's very fitting."

The tan-skinned girl crossed her arms over herself, as if suddenly aware that her top half was mostly exposed. "Yeah, mermaids are definitely a district four thing," she said.

"No, I mean it's fitting for you. Not everyone could pull it off," Ali said, deciding to play nice. The compliment wasn't a lie, anyway. "You remind me of someone. What's your name? Mine's Alison."

"Emily," she answered. Her eyes focused on Alison's. "That's not surprising. We've met before."

Alison raised her eyebrows. She was truly taken aback. "When? I've never set foot in your district."

"I lived in district two for three years," Emily explained. Before Alison could ask how that was possible, Emily elaborated. "My dad's one of the higher ranking peacekeepers. He's transported to other districts every so often. There was, uh, a situation in two a while back. It looked like it would be permanent so my mom and I were allowed to relocate with him."

Alison pursed her lips and nodded. "How old were you?"

"We moved there when I was twelve and stayed until I was fifteen. I was actually in your class."

"Really?" Alison asked, feeling a little bad for not remembering. "That would explain why you look familiar."

Emily nodded. She twirled the edges of her black hair before securing her arms around her body again. For some reason, she looked more nervous than she had before.

"Everyone knew who you were. I was in the background. We never really talked, except for that one time."

Alison racked her brain but found no recollection of the event.

Emily looked at her confused expression and frowned. "You mean you don't remember?"

"Should I?" the blonde questioned. "You make it sound like it was something more significant than peer editing in English."

The girl from four looked at her for a couple of long moments and dropped her eyes. "It was nothing, really. Don't worry about it."

"Tell me," Ali insisted.

Emily was about to form a response when the call came for everyone to report to their chariots.

"Ugh, you know what, tell me later," Alison said. "I'll find you during training."

She reluctantly returned to her spot and let Noel help her onto the chariot. It was not long until the horses started moving and they were parading alongside thousands of people screaming with delight.

It was exhilarating. All the adoring fans showering her with love and attention. She didn't have to fake her smile, although she did make sure to hold her chin up and look straight ahead, as if she were above everyone else. Alison felt like she was on top of the world, right where she belonged.

It was wonderful, but it was only a temporary distraction from the questions swirling around in her head after meeting the mermaid from district four.

* * *

Emily's mind was elsewhere as she wiggled out of her mermaid tail and scanned the drawers for something more comfortable to wear. A pair of black dress pants was the best she could find.

She collapsed on the bed and buried her head into a pillow. How ridiculous it was that, amidst the stress of her situation, she was thinking about Alison DiLaurentis of all people. She clenched her eyes shut and all she could see was blue eyes looking at her with curiosity. Blonde hair curled into perfect ringlets and how she looked both beautiful and intimidating in her costume.

So ridiculous. It wasn't like thoughts of that girl hadn't been trapped in her mind for years already. The last thing Emily needed was her first crush popping back into her life and turning her into an awkward, nervous mess when she needed to be focused. Especially considering the fact that Alison could literally be her downfall in the arena.

Anything remotely relating to Alison DiLaurentis needed to be blocked out immediately. Her attention should be on figuring out a strategy to stay alive for as long as possible.

Emily rolled over and stared at the ceiling. She groaned and allowed herself fifteen minutes to sort her thoughts before mulling over strategies. Fifteen minutes couldn't hurt anything.

It was apparent that Alison didn't remember anything. Emily felt stupid for expecting her to. They had only exchanged a few words, and Alison was definitely distracted.

But Emily remembered everything. She remembered how fourteen-year-old Alison looked as she darted out of her family's house, cheeks flushed and eyes watery. Her hands were shaking and she looked less put together than Emily had ever imagined she could be.

"Alison? Are you okay?" Emily had asked. She watched the other girl stiffen at the sound of her voice and precede to briskly walk away from her.

Emily had to jog to catch up. She was careful to keep a safe distance behind the girl's bouncing curls. "Alison, I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," Alison had responded without turning around. Her voice sounded weak and close to cracking. "Stop following me."

Alison's name was called in the distance and she spun around toward the sound. It was only then Emily could see the redness of her cheek and how her lip quivered. She noticed Alison was squeezing a piece of paper.

Her blue eyes met Emily's and when she took a breath, it sounded like she might break down sobbing. "Don't tell anyone you saw me. Please," she begged her.

"I won't" Emily had answered, so low she wasn't sure the other girl heard her. She wanted so badly to comfort her, to ask what happened.

Emily said the first piece of advice she could think of. "There's a place between the old market and the weapons factory, right past the working field. No one ever goes in between the buildings. You can hide there," she said quickly, rushing to get the words out.

"Right past the working field?" Alison had asked. Emily clearly remembered how the girl had taken in a sharp breath and took off running.

The tiny alcove used to be Emily's spot. It was a place she'd retreat to often since she always felt out of place among all the kids who had grown up in district two. She wondered if it helped Alison the way it helped her.

Since that day, Emily knew there was more to Alison DiLaurentis than meets the eye. She was never able to forget about it, even if she should. Even if Alison had.

* * *

**A/N: I hope y'all enjoyed it :) I like writing for Alison because everything about her is really complicated. Also keep in mind that at this point, Emily hasn't experienced the same growth she has on the show. She's still shy and sweet Emily. I'll try to update within a reasonable amount of time. My family has the flu and I'm feeling kind of bleh so I hope I don't catch it. Anyway, please review!**


	3. Training round one

**A/N: As expected, I got sick. I typed the second half of this chapter laying on my side in bed (still in that position right now), so I hope it came out okay haha. There was more I wanted to cover in this chapter, but I decided to split it because the word count was getting long. I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday season! Please review :) The next chapter will be up within the next week.**

* * *

Alison knew from a young age that the most lethal weapons aren't physical, but psychological. Secrets could bring compliance as easily as any knife. They were Alison's defense against the unknown; a way to ensure control when the world was unraveling around her. It was second nature for her to investigate any situation that could possibly provide her with ammunition.

Even when the chances of digging up dirt were low, Alison simply couldn't stand _not knowing_. Such was the case when she noticed a silver, unlabeled button in the elevator.

She was sandwiched between her brother and Noel on the way to the training gymnasium on the basement floor. Jason was hovering near the line of buttons, nearly blocking them. Most were labeled with district numbers, and the lowest one was marked with a bolded 'T' for training.

There was no label or explanation for the button that lay between the district one living quarters and the bottom floor.

Alison leaned over to push the mystery button. She was met with Jason's hand slapping her arm away. Huh, it was hard to believe his reflexes could be so quick when his default state was sluggish. "What are you trying to do?" Jason demanded.

"I was just curious, Jason," Alison said, feigning innocence. Jason rolled his eyes at her tone of voice. "But wow, touchy much? There must be something pretty important on that floor."

Her words piqued Noel's interest as well. The both looked at Jason expectantly. "It doesn't concern you. That floor is for mentors and escorts only," he grumbled, moving directly in front of the line of buttons as if expecting one of the teens to lunge for it again.

The elevator stopped with a bounce, creating a small flutter in Alison's stomach that made her feel like she was falling. Jason remained guarded and showed no indication of moving as the doors slid open.

"Here's your stop," he said in a gruff voice.

"Any words of advice?" Noel asked.

"Don't be an easy target," Jason answered as the tributes stepped out of the elevator. Alison studied her brother wordlessly as the doors slid shut once again and he disappeared from sight. She continued to stare at the doors, the gears in her head spinning.

"Someone's in a mood," Noel commented. "I bet he's bummed he had to get his lazy ass up by ten."

"Shut up," Alison snapped at him. She glared at Noel's reflection in the closed elevator. "There's a reason why he's acting weird. I intend to find out what's on that floor."

"Don't do anything stupid, Alison," Noel warned. His voice lowered. "Being impulsive won't work too well in an alliance. I'd hate to have to have to resort to drastic measures in the arena if you can't stay in line."

Alison felt her throat go dry. She turned to Noel, being careful to keep her expression composed. "There is no alliance yet," she reminded him. "And I'd prefer to not be part of a group who can't keep it together for twenty-four hours without going knife crazy."

"In that case, we should get to know our allies better. You know, bond a little," Noel grinned. He started walking down the velvet carpet of the hallway, leaving a frozen Alison behind.

"Noel," Alison began, still trying to process his words. "Do not tell me you already roped us both into an alliance." He voice rose with each word and a million scenarios flashed through her mind. Each involved strangers she didn't trust sleeping near her with weapons in hand, ready to slice her throat the second sleep overcame her.

"I did," Noel said, blue eyes gleaming. Apparently, he was oblivious to Alison's disapproval. "We're teaming up with district one. The girl's pretty hot."

"_Do not_ make decisions on my behalf." Alison's voice was low and laced with warning. She shook her hand with an exasperated sigh and shoved past him, trying to ignore the angry heat flowing through her veins as she made her way to the entrance of the gymnasium.

* * *

The obstacle course would almost be fun if it weren't for the circumstances. Emily gripped the net as tightly as she could before stepping off the platform and letting her body dangle in the air. The texture of the net was rough, but it wasn't hard to hold on and navigate her way to the other side.

Once there, she climbed up a steep wall, thanking her lucky stars when she didn't slip, and hoisted herself over the top. It was a long drop back to the floor, but there was no time to waste. She kept moving even as the impact resonated in her heels and sent a shock up her leg.

By the time she made it to the finish line, her breaths were labored and sweat covered the back of her neck at the base of her ponytail. Two tributes stopped to compliment her on her time, while a few others simply watched from afar.

Emily felt a smile tug at the edge of her lips. Her heart was pumping and she felt invigorated because the caution in their eyes told her she wasn't the weakest link. In the past hour, she'd climbed walls and thrown weights and pushed herself impossibly far. Each task only brought on another surge of energy. Maybe, just maybe, she could do this after all.

She grabbed a bottled water from an ice chest near the wall and took gulps until her breathing evened out. The gymnasium was huge, yet most of the tributes were crowded around the weapons section. The only weapon Emily had the slightest bit of experience with was a knife, and that was only to chop food and cut rope for nets.

Before she could decide to walk over to the station, she caught sight of who was there and felt her surge of confidence deflate like a balloon. It was Alison. Of course Alison would be there, standing close to her district partner and the careers from one. Of course she would turn around just as Emily's eyes set on her.

It was just like the staring games at yesterday's tribute parade. Emily hung her head bashfully and tried to look away, because there was no way she was ready to answer the questions she knew were about to come her way.

She hated that her focus could be broken so easily. Any chance of holding onto the last bit of empowerment slipped away when Alison walked closer and closer until she was only a few feet in front of her. The blonde leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. A small smile played on her lips and Emily couldn't stop herself from looking.

Alison was dressed the same way she was, in a gray and red training suit that hugged her curves, but somehow Emily felt the two of them looked different. She was fourteen again and looking into the dark blue eyes of the girl who was everything she was not.

"I believe you owe me a story," Alison said. As expected, the request was upfront without any filler small talk or beating around the bush.

"I, um, I…" Emily stammered. She'd spent half the night raking through scenarios of how to bring up a potentially traumatic memory that Alison appeared to have no recollection of. It felt safer to keep her lips sealed.

Alison tilted her head slightly, looking at her in a way that was more inquisitive. Emily knew she must be judging her. Underneath her still expression, she had to be laughing at how pathetic she was. Emily promised herself she wouldn't let herself be seen as weak.

The empowerment she felt before was nowhere to be found, but Emily willed herself to continue the story. "I was walking home one day when I saw you run out of your house. There was screaming and you were…pretty upset. It was obvious you didn't want anyone to see you like that."

Emily took a deep breath and continued. "I tried to ask if you were okay. All I really did was suggest a place to run to, and, uh, you asked me not to tell anyone I saw you. That was all I saw. I don't really know the specifics of what happened."

She watched the girl's face for a reaction. Alison was looking past her, staring blankly into the distance. Emily searched for any ghost of an expression, expecting to see a hint of sadness or maybe a shallow intake of breath. If Alison were a complete stranger, Emily might think she had no emotions at all.

But she knew better than that. The memory of a panicked, teary Alison was enough to prove otherwise. She could only interpret her unchanging expression to be a lack of recollection.

"You don't remember, do you?" Emily asked tentatively.

Alison's eyes flashed back to her, and for a second, Emily could have sworn she saw something underneath. "Of course I do," the blonde answered. "I just haven't thought about it in a while."

The brunette bit her lip. She wasn't completely convinced, but she didn't have the resolve to voice her doubts. "Alison, what happened that day? Did someone hurt you?" she asked, thinking back to how the red on her cheek was a deeper hue than a normal flushed face. "Your parents?" she asked in a strained voice, barely above a whisper.

"No, no. God no," Alison countered. The intake of breath finally came and her eyes blinked several times. A nervous laughter escaped her mouth. "My parents are crazy, but they aren't violent. It was just a stupid argument. It was right after my brother came home from his Hunger Games. Everyone was tense that week."

The explanation only served to confirm Emily's doubts. "This happened when we were fourteen," she said gently, careful to not upset the blonde. "Your brother had already been a victor for a couple of years."

Alison's jaw set. "I meant it was after he came back from mentoring. Really, it was no big deal."

"It looked like it was," Emily said. She stared at the grainy tile of the floor. "I was worried for weeks. I wanted to tell someone, but you asked me not to."

"I appreciate you not telling. It means you're trustworthy."

Emily looked back up to find Alison watching her intently. The blonde looked away almost immediately when their eyes met. The action seemed uncharacteristic of her. It was like she was scared that Emily could see right through her defense, which wasn't untrue. Eyes are the portal to the inner-workings of the mind and soul. No one could completely conceal that.

"So," Alison changed the subject as she looked across the room, "do you want to go to the archery station? Not to brag, but I'm pretty much the best. I won an award."

_Modest, too_, Emily thought, but the girl's sudden excitement was kind of endearing, so she gave her a genuine smile and a nod. She needed to take advantage of her training time, even if she was still concerned about what went on in Alison's home behind closed doors.

Emily watched as the lighter-skinned girl nocked her arrow and drew the bow back.

"One time, I hit a target dead on from four hundred yards away," Alison said, looking back to flash a smile before letting the arrow fly. It soared through the air and smashed into the yellow circle in the center of the target, not quite a direct hit, but not far off.

"Four hundred yards? Is that even possible?" Emily asked skeptically. The lane before the two of them had to be fifty, maybe sixty yards at the most. It was hard to imagine an arrow firing that distance without flying out of control.

"If you believe it is," Alison replied. "You'd be surprised the power numbers have when it comes to changing a story from bland to exciting."

The girl was an enigma, part stories and part truth, with an outer shell that drew people in only to keep them at arm's length. The bow in Emily's hands hung limp as she watched Alison shoot, and she was left wondering if there was a key to unlock the girl, to find out everything that made her tick and to discover if what lay inside was as complicated and lovely as her exterior.

She wanted to know who Alison DiLaurentis really was, and she knew she was already in too deep, way too deep, when the simple motion of the girl turning around to face her set off a clap of thunder in her chest.

"Are you okay over there? You haven't shot one arrow," Alison noted.

"Oh, I was about to," Emily said too quickly, her words muddling together. She ducked her head and blushed, trying to give her attention to figuring out the bow. Her hands were shaking as she pulled back the arrow.

"Wait," Alison commanded. Emily was surprised when the girl from district two was suddenly behind her shoulders, helping her hold the bow straight and adjusting her posture. When she released the arrow, it sliced through the air and hit the middle ring of the target. Not bad for a first shot.

The two worked at stations in relative silence for a while, first shooting arrows and then moving onto survival skills. Lunchtime had arrived when the boy from two waved Alison over to a table. Emily hesitated in her spot by the small fire she'd been tending to.

"You can come," Alison said, as if reading her thoughts. "It'll be nice to have someone there who I don't want to strangle."

Eyes were on Emily as she followed Alison to the table. Three others were seated. There was the familiar-looking boy from two. Next to him was a tiny girl who had skin a few shades lighter than Emily's and large, brown eyes. The other boy had much darker skin and broad shoulders.

"Guys, this is Emily from district four. Emily, that's Noel, Mona, and Nate," Alison announced, motioning to each person as she said their name. "You might remember Noel from when you lived in two."

"Hey, I remember you! Or at least hearing about you," Noel said. Emily felt herself stiffen. She wasn't sure whether his second comment was meant to be positive.

"Come on, sit with us," the tiny girl, Mona, chirped. "Tell us about yourself. I'm guessing you're a career like us since you've been hanging around Alison." Her voice lowered to a whisper. "I don't blame you for not wanting to associate with the undesirables. I mean, have you seen some of these tributes? I am _so _embarrassed for their districts."

"Yeah," Emily nodded, despite the fact that there was nothing in Mona's words to agree with. She rubbed her neck and said the first excuse that came to mind. "I actually have to go find a bathroom, so I'll catch up with you guys later. Nice to meet you."

Emily let out a sigh of relief when she escaped to the safety of the hallway. Even after she'd found the bathrooms, she hesitated in the hall, redoing her hair and pacing around. The sound of a throat clearing caught her ears. She peeked around the corner to see the back of a familiar blonde head standing in front of the elevator.

"Hey, are you going somewhere?" Emily asked, grateful she was speaking to Alison and not Noel or Mona.

Alison jumped and turned around quickly. "Oh, I didn't realize you were there. Yeah, I am. If anyone asks, tell them I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Are we allowed to leave?" Emily asked, prompting a shrug from the other girl.

Emily watched the digitized number above the elevator change. It was getting closer to the basement floor.

"I get the feeling you're not going to your room," Emily said.

Alison was silent until the elevator arrived on the floor with a ding. She opened her mouth only to close it again, most likely weighing her words. The doors slid open and she stepped in, still looking at the brunette.

Once she was on the inside, she finally spoke. "Okay, Emily. Let's find out how well you can keep a secret."


	4. There are secrets in these walls

**A/N: Happy New Year's Eve! The reviews are very much appreciated. Please keep them coming! :) Chapter after this will be training scores and leading up to the interviews. This chapter is a little different, and there are references to mature themes from the book series, but it's nothing explicit.**

* * *

"What do you think is on the other side?" Emily asked in a small voice when the elevator came to a stop.

It had been a short ride, as they'd only moved one floor up from the training center. Alison barely had thirty seconds to give an abbreviated version of the morning's events to the other girl.

"We're a few seconds from finding out," Ali replied. "You're not backing out, right?"

There was a moment of slight hesitation before the dark-haired girl shook her head slightly. "No," she said, repeating the motion, more decisive the second time.

Alison held back a sigh of relief as the other girl followed her into the hallway. Investigating alone didn't normally scare her, but there was a nervousness bubbling in her stomach and her heartbeat wasn't quite even. Not that she'd tell anyone that.

It felt better somehow to not be alone, even if her companion was hardly more than a stranger. _But not really a stranger_. Emily had a place in memories just out of Alison's reach. She was in the part of Alison's mind that was muddled and unclear, where everything was so distorted that it was impossible to tell fantasy from reality. The memory was already destroyed beyond repair.

The real question was why Emily would even care about an incident that happened over three years ago. She shouldn't. Yet, there was this unmistakable look of concern in her dark eyes, not quite pity, but like she actually gave a shit about the blonde's well-being for some unfathomable reason.

It wasn't what Alison was used to, and it left her with an uncomfortable vulnerability that she suspected was partly to blame for the apprehension she felt now. Regardless of this, her gut told her to keep Emily close. Ali couldn't get a read on the girl's motives, but as far as she could tell, they were unselfish and pure. She appeared loyal.

If Emily was as trustworthy as Alison thought she was, she would make a great ally. She only had to pass this test.

The hallway itself was similar to the floor below, with cream-colored walls and velvet carpet. It would have been identical had it not been much shorter in length. The two girls quickly reached the end of it and found themselves in front of an extravagant set of windowless doors. A sign stood directly to the side.

"Only mentors, escorts, and stylists beyond this point," Alison read aloud, nearly echoing Jason's words from earlier.

She grasped the knob and ran her fingers over the intricate glass patterns. It felt like even the slightest touch would smudge or deface it in some way. Whatever was on the other side had to be important. She could feel her excitement building as she turned the knob and edged one of the doors open.

"Wait," Emily said, and Alison paused to listen.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this. We could get caught."

Alison tapped her fingers against the knob impatiently and threw back the first Ali-esque response that came to mind. "Run back to training if you're scared. No one's stopping you."

Emily bit her lip and her eyes darted back down the hall. Ali wondered if her words were too sharp. The girl had offered her nothing but kindness so far.

"No…I'm okay. I'm just making sure you know what we're getting into. I mean, the Capitol takes rules really seriously," Emily said. Her voice was level, stronger than Alison expected, but she wouldn't make eye contact and her face was slightly flushed.

Ali considered that for a moment. She knew there was a possibility of facing consequences, but what could they do to her that would be worse than throwing her into a fight to the death?

"We're already being punished for a rebellion that happened before we were born. Until we get into that arena, we're untouchable," Alison reminded the other girl, taking care to make sure her voice wasn't harsh like before. Trust was a two-way street. She couldn't afford to scare off a potential ally.

"That's true," Emily relented with a sigh. She still looked frightened, even though the blonde could tell she was trying to hide it.

"Look, it'll be fine. Come on," Ali said. She reached out and gently wrapped her hand around Emily's wrist, guiding her forward. "We'll stick together."

The first thing Alison noticed about the room on the other side of the door was that it was dim. The lighting was low, but there was enough of it to illuminate a gigantic ballroom. Half of it was filled with large, round tables with perfectly white cloths and candles as centerpieces. The wall of windows on the opposite side of the room was mostly opaque and painted over, only allowing in light in small pieces that reflected and danced around the ballroom in lovely, colorful patterns.

She could see a bar in the far corner, though it was nearly blocked by the sheer amount of people. Ridiculously dressed Capitolites of all sizes, shapes, and colors were moving around each other, some bumping into others, some talking, and some screaming over the noise of others' voices. The amount of movement on the room was almost overwhelming, enough to make a person feel dizzy from just watching.

Alison remembered her hand was still around Emily's wrist when she felt the girl shift. She gave her wrist a little squeeze of support and led them around the edges of the crowd. A closer look revealed that there were victors scattered around the crowd. Some were young like Jason and some were old enough for their face to sag with wrinkles, but they all stood out clearly against the Capitol natives.

Bits of loud conversation stung Alison's ears. They were talking about this year's crop of tributes. How ironic that they were too caught up with themselves to notice two tributes hiding in plain sight not ten feet away.

Alison turned to Emily. "These people must be sponsors," she told her, leaning close to the brunette's ear and raising her voice to be heard.

Emily said something back that Alison couldn't quite discern, but it sounded like agreement. After all, everyone here was clearly wealthy. Most of them were flaunting giant gold jewelry and pocket watches like her freak escort had. This was where mentors came to socialize with potential sponsors and make transactions.

The atmosphere of the place suddenly switched from overwhelming to a complete letdown. Alison wasn't sure what she'd been expecting. The most impressive part of the mystery floor was the design of the ballroom. As far as she could tell, there was no huge, juicy secret that tributes needed to be shielded from. No apparent explanation for Jason's moodiness. Maybe it was morphling withdrawal, or him deciding to be stupidly cryptic for no reason.

Alison wasn't satisfied. With this many people in one place, there _had_ to be some type of scandal she could sink her teeth into.

Emily nudged her shoulder and pointed to a screen mounted over the bar. Alison had to squint to make the fuzzy shapes focus into pictures of the twenty-four tributes. Next to each picture were letters far too blurry to read.

The girls gave each other a silent nod before slinking in between spaces in the crowd to get a closer look. Ali was grateful when they were able to make it to a less crowded space. Hundreds of voices weren't pounding against her ears and it was finally possible to speak without her words fading into the clamor.

"It's a betting board," Alison announced when they were close enough to see properly. The words next to each picture were actually numbers designating odds from most to least likely to win. Every few seconds, the electronic numbers would flicker, changing slightly, but for the most part, the order remained constant. Ali's eyes were immediately drawn to her own picture.

"You're near the top," Emily said, voicing what Alison had already noticed. Sure enough, she was only three from the top, along with the other tributes from districts one and two. The dark-skinned boy from one who Noel had so graciously arranged an alliance with was secure in the top spot as predicted victor.

The odds weren't bad, but Alison couldn't relax knowing they weren't completely in her favor. Would she be able to overpower the tributes from one in a physical fight? A sinking feeling went through her and she decided she was better off not dwelling on what she knew wouldn't end well.

Emily's picture was a bit further down, situated firmly in the upper-middle area of the line-up. Being from district four gave her an advantage, but everyone knew the middle ground of the odds was nothing to get excited about, so Alison chose not to comment.

She looked over at Emily, who was still looking up at the board with a quiet intensity. It was hard to gauge whether she was pleased or not. Perhaps it was what she'd expected. She was soft and gentle, but apparently strong enough to not show signs of fear that had to be festering inside.

The wall of windows behind her illuminated the edge of her face and made it look like she was surrounded in a soft halo of light that traced from the curve of her nose down past her chin. There was a peacefulness to how still she was. Watching her made the room seem quiet, when in fact their surroundings were far from it.

"What is it?" Emily asked, shifting just a little to turn toward Alison.

Her question took Alison off guard because she wasn't exactly sure what she had been doing. She straightened her posture like she always did upon being called back from zoning out and looked past the other girl. "I was watching the light," she answered, not untruthfully. Her eyes traced the wall of windows until they reached a door that was propped open.

"You know, we could walk out of here right now," Alison said.

"We wouldn't get very far. We don't quite blend in," Emily replied, motioning to their clothes. Ali looked down at her training outfit and laughed.

"Of course not. We'd have to steal some peacock feathers and face paint. And then we'd have to take on new identities complete with funny names and backstories." Alison paused to consider what type of persona she'd adopt. "I'd be Vivian Darkbloom, fabulous socialite and long-lost relative of a well-to-do politician who happened to leave behind a large sum of inheritance money."

She watched the edges of Emily's mouth tug upward into an amused smile. The other girl cocked an eyebrow at her. "You made all of that up just now? You could write a book or something. It sounds like you have a lot of stories to tell."

It felt good to be complimented; to feel the familiar rush of pride. "Yeah? Maybe I will."

The smile fell off the brunette's face and she looked guarded again. Ali was puzzled by the sudden shift in expression until she felt a hand grab her shoulder from behind.

Crap.

"Look what I found. It's not every year you have the pleasure of getting a hold of tributes before the Hunger Games start."

The voice was deep and throaty. Ali spun around to see just who was speaking. Honestly, she'd expected her brother to pop up and reprimand her, but there was no way this was Jason. Instead, the voice belonged to a large man, probably in his early thirties, with a squarish nose and jaw. There was a roughness to him. He didn't have the same snobby, upper-class look as most of the sponsors.

It took her a minute to realize the words weren't directed at her and Emily, but to another man standing behind him. They looked similar enough to be brothers, with the same bone structure and rough demeanor. The only obvious difference was the second man had a shaved head.

"Don't you know they're not supposed to be here?" the second guy asked the first with a coarse chuckle. "Those are my favorite type of tributes. The ones who aren't afraid to bend the rules."

Alison didn't like the way the stranger was still gripping her shoulder. She shrugged his hand off as casually as possible and looked for a way to take advantage of the situation.

"They don't tell us much about what goes on down here. Care to enlighten us?"

The two men exchanged a look. The one with the hair spoke again. "Hey, you're the one with the brother," he said, not answering her question. "I've seen you on TV before. The years have done you well. You've really filled out in all the right places."

He reached out to touch her again and she stepped back slightly, crossing her arms. Every word they said only painted them as more grimy and disgusting in Ali's eyes. It was nothing she'd never heard before, though, and she would use it to her advantage if she had to.

"So I've been told. You two aren't half bad yourselves," she said, plastering on a fake smile for the sake of appearance. The men exchanged another look. This time their smiles were wide.

"How about we buy you a drink? One for your friend, too," the bald one grinned.

Ali looked back at Emily, who had her arms crossed and a look on her face that made it evident she wasn't playing along with any of this. She pressed her lips into a thin line when the men's eyes raked over her body.

"I'd rather not," Emily said, clearly unamused.

Her turning down the offer only seemed to make the strangers more persistent. They moved closer to the girls' sides, reminding Alison of vultures swooping in and surrounding their prey. She stood up tall and lifted her chin.

"My friend and I have somewhere to be," Alison said carefully, "_But _I think we can make time for one drink if we get something in return." She ran a hand through her blonde curls and looked at each of the men. Emily was frowning; she could see her at the edge of her vision.

"And what would that be, exactly?" the bald one asked.

"In exchange, you will sponsor both of us in the arena. Alison DiLaurentis from district two and Emily Fields from district four, just so we're clear."

The bald man flexed back and gave a little grunt. "We prefer to use our money after the Games are over," he said. "We find it benefits us more that way."

Alison pursed her lips. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, genuinely curious now.

Both of them laughed in response. "How much do you think she'll sell for?" the one with the hair asked his brother, or friend, whatever their relation was.

Sell? Alison wrinkled her brow. She felt like she was on the verge of digging up the kind of secret she came here in search of, but now she wasn't so sure she wanted to know. The word rubbed her the wrong way and sent a chill up her spine.

"I'd pay for that one," the bald one said, pointing at Emily. "I like them submissive."

"Excuse me?" Alison asked, mouth falling open.

"Not saying I'd ignore you. It's too bad both of you can't win," he chortled. "Now how about that drink?" he asked, wrapping his arm around Ali's waist with unnecessary force.

She was ready to punch him away, or scratch him, or yell out something obnoxious, but for a split second, she was frozen with fear. All it took was that one second for Emily to react.

"Let go of her!" Emily shrieked, prying the man's arm off her waist. "I think that's more than enough. You have no right to talk to us like that and you definitely have no right to lay a hand on her. We'll be leaving now," she snapped, shielding the blonde and pulling her away from the men who were now falling into an obnoxious fit of laughter.

Alison was too stunned to turn back and shout something nasty at the perverts. She kept her focus on Emily as they walked through the noisy crowd in search of the exit. The brunette looked beyond pissed. Her shoulders were moving up and down with deep, angry breaths. It was difficult to get a good look at her face as they moved forward, but Alison was pretty sure she saw tears dotting her eyes.

A lot was on her mind. Between the harassment and what looked to be a disturbing revelation about the Capitol, Alison was surprised she was able to remain clam. Emily looked way more worked up than her, and she suddenly felt the urge to comfort the girl. To thank her for what she'd done.

Ali grabbed for the other girl's hand and laced their fingers together. Any type of skin contact, even if it was just a hand to hold, always made Alison feel safer. She hoped it would have the same effect on Emily.

Just before they walked back through the door they'd entered, Ali looked back out at the ballroom. Past all the people swaying and socializing, along the glass wall, there was a door where people were entering and exiting. The same one Ali joked they could escape through. Some of the Capitolites who were walking out had their arms wrapped around the shoulders of victors.

Alison was wrong. There was no escape. Not for the kids whose hearts would stop in the arena, and not for the ones who managed to survive.

"I shouldn't have made you come," Ali said to the other girl once they were safely out the door, "but I'm glad you did."

Emily was still trembling. She stared down at their intertwined hands silently.

Alison bit her lip, not sure what else to say. The quiet was getting to her. "You didn't have to do that for me," she tried again.

"Yeah, I did," Emily said. As the seconds slipped by, Ali thought that was the extent of the response she was going to get. An escort from some other district walked past them to enter the ballroom, shooting them an accusatory glance while doing so, but she didn't make any comments. Good.

Ali let go of the other girl's hand and let it fall to her side awkwardly. She wished she had a pocket to stick it in.

Emily sighed beside her and spoke up again. "It's not okay for people to treat you that way. Or me. Or anyone. I felt sick just watching them. Really, I should've done a lot more."

"I can't figure you out," Alison said softly.

Emily looked at her, waiting for her to explain, and Alison tried to put into words exactly what she meant. "People don't just do things for others without having a motive. That's not the way the world works. We barely know each other. I don't understand why you care what happens to me," she said, feeling prickly and vulnerable again. They both knew she wasn't only talking about what happened with the two men.

Ali shut her eyes, trying to call to mind what had her so upset over three years ago. What circumstances could have surrounded their meeting that caused the brunette to want to protect her?

"Alison-"

"You can call me Ali."

"Ali," Emily started again, her voice slow and uncertain. The blonde watched the girl's dark brown eyes hold her own for a few seconds before flickering away. "Everyone deserves to have someone to defend them. You deserve that, too. I'm not sure why you feel like you don't."

Warmth spread up her neck and into her face and she felt herself inhale sharply. There was no way she could respond to that. She told herself it wasn't true, anyway. When it came to topics like this, Alison wasn't much better at opening up than her brother was. It would take way too much effort to explain why it wasn't true, and even then, the other girl might not believe her.

Her chest felt tight as she hurried to change the subject to something less invasive but equally important. "I think we would make a good team. Em…can I call you that?" Ali asked. The other girl nodded, so she let herself continue. "Em, do you have any plans for the arena?"

* * *

Alison's body was sore by the time she was able to return to the district two suite. A few more hours of training had followed her unplanned excursion with Emily, and Ali had made use of every second of her time, mainly to avoid Noel and his questions.

Unfortunately, there was no escaping him once they were back in the room. Alison already regretted laying on the sofa and stretching her arms. She should've walked straight to her bedroom and stayed there until dinner.

"So, now that Nate and Mona are gone, are you going to tell me what you've been up to?" Noel asked. He propped himself against the back of the sofa and waited for an answer.

"I took a walk around the building. I needed a break," Ali shrugged.

"Yeah, and you took the girl from four with you," he said, looking at her with an expression she couldn't quite read.

"I didn't take her with me, Noel. I happened to see her in the hallway. Why, is there a problem with that?"

"All I'm saying is it looks bad to our allies if you're off doing God knows what with people from other districts."

"I'll keep that in mind," Alison said, turning away from Noel and grabbing for the remote.

Noel kept talking. Of course. "That girl, Emily, I mean. Do you remember her from when she lived in two?"

"Not particularly. She seemed vaguely familiar when I saw her at the tribute parade."

"Then you're going to want to hear this," Noel said, blue eyes shining the way they always did when he was about to share a piece of gossip. Ali and Noel were similar in that way. She wondered if the similarity was the reason they didn't get along all that well.

Still, she was interested in what he had to say. She waited patiently as Noel jumped over the sofa to sit by her. "Okay, well I didn't know her all that well either, but there were some rumors about this girl."

"Go on," Ali said.

"My friend Eric heard she plays for the other team. Apparently, she had this huge crush on you. I heard she used to watch you in class and draw hearts in her notebook and stuff. It must be pretty weird hanging out with her."

"I didn't know that," Ali said, considering the information. It could make sense and potentially explain why she acted the way she did. Alison felt her heart jump and she wondered if she was a narcissist for hoping it was true. It always felt good when people admired her. It gave her a rush and made her feel like she was special, like she mattered, but there was something different here.

Maybe it was because it meant she would be safer siding with Emily in the arena. Or that there was a solid explanation for her protecting Ali earlier. Maybe both of those reasons, but neither felt right, and Ali had no intention of using Emily's secret against her. She didn't deserve that.

Her thoughts of the pretty brunette were stopped from going any further when Noel added his own comment. "It's weird, unless you two were sneaking off to make out. In that case, you should invite me next time so I can watch."

"What is wrong with you?"Ali groaned, cutting him off from saying anything else by turning on the TV and blaring the volume.

She stared blankly at the TV, thinking of Emily and what they'd encountered on the mystery floor. The thoughts gave way to wondering about Jason and all the skeletons that must accumulate in every victor's closet.

It felt like an eternity had passed since she'd gotten called at the reaping a few days ago. Nothing about what she'd experienced so far had been pleasant, but she wouldn't mind living through this routine a while longer. Mostly because she wasn't ready to face the Games, and after what she'd seen today, she wasn't sure she wanted to be part of what would come after.


	5. We're both strong and weak

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating. I plan on starting the next chapter tonight so I can get it up faster! I'm excited to write it. Thanks so much to everyone who is reading and I hope y'all enjoy it.**

* * *

Emily kept her hands still in her lap as the first name was called. One by one, each tribute would be called into the gymnasium for a private training session. It was the last chance before the interviews to impress sponsors, though, at this point, Emily wasn't convinced sponsors actually cared about the scores at all.

Maybe it was wrong to form an opinion of all Capitol citizens based on the crude behavior of two men she had encountered in the ballroom. It was possible they were part of an unpleasant minority. Emily still intended on performing to the best of her ability during the session, regardless of her private thoughts. She was on a mission to prove her own strength.

But that didn't stop her blood from boiling every time she thought of the men casually joking about what price she would sell for. How the tall, bald one snaked his arm around Alison's waist and tried to pull her closer. As if he were entitled to do so. As if he _owned_ her.

Even now, three days later, the thought of it made Emily's hands tremble and brought angry tears to her eyes. She blinked them away before anyone could notice or question her. No one appeared to be watching her, anyway. Everyone was most likely wrapped up in their own thoughts, deciding what skill to display for the gamemakers. Emily had a basic idea of what she would show them.

Alison was sitting next to Noel and the tiny girl from district one. Mona; that was her name. Emily didn't particularly like watching them as they sat together, laughing about something she couldn't overhear, but it didn't trouble her. This was part of Alison's plan. The careers couldn't be given any reason to suspect that Alison planned on abandoning them in the arena. If the blonde wasn't an ally, she was an enemy at the very top of the hit list. A dangerously large target would be glued to not only her back, but also Emily's by extension.

If there was anything Emily had learned from observing the careers, it was that they never missed a target.

Neither girl had mentioned the alliance since their talk in the hallway. As soon as they'd gotten back to the training gym, over thirty minutes late to the afternoon session, Noel had called Alison over and she'd thrown Emily an apologetic glance before joining him.

The following two days had passed in a quiet, lonely routine. No one ever seemed to want to talk when she was in her district suite. The mentors weren't doing their job, but there seemed to be little she could do to change that. At training, her only ally spent the majority of her time with the careers, leaving Emily alone with the training equipment and her thoughts.

Every now and then, though, Alison had approached her. The encounters never lasted long, maybe five or ten minutes at a time, two or three times each day. She'd saunter over to the station Emily was working at, smile in greeting, and start asking questions.

That was how it went each time. Questions. First they were only about how training was going. She'd ask about which weapons were easy and which stations proved difficult, but the questions eventually shifted in a more personal direction. She'd asked about her family and friends at home, listening carefully as Emily described her parents and told her about Aria and Hanna's quirks.

Emily was surprised when Alison seemed to take an interest in her life in district four. Her questions felt more like genuine curiosity than pure interrogation. Emily found herself drawing out the stories to try to make the blonde stay longer. The brunette didn't get the chance to talk much to anyone these days. She was grateful to have a listening ear in Alison and disappointed each time the girl scanned the room for Noel and said she had to go.

A few times, Emily tried to ask Alison questions about her life, but she always deflected them or gave vague answers. "I'd rather hear about you. Your stories are much nicer, trust me," she'd said before asking to hear more about how it felt to return to district four after living in two.

Emily remembered how the girl had giggled when she explained that swimming was her favorite hobby.

"Isn't that, like, a requirement for living in four?" she'd asked. "All the girls must be mermaids," she added teasingly, and Emily had tried unsuccessfully to fight back a blush upon remembering how Ali complimented her costume at the Tribute Parade.

"Not exactly. I mean, everyone can swim, but not everyone enjoys the water like I do. Hanna hates the salt," Emily replied, laughing a little at the thought of her friend. "For me, it's different. It's the only thing I really excel at. Everything just feels better in the water. Everything is simple and everything is peaceful, if that makes any sense."

"An escape," Ali nodded. "I know a place like that," she'd said, but as soon as Emily asked her to elaborate, she shrugged, saying it was nothing worth noting, really. Soon after, she was gone back to her pretend alliance.

Just like now. Emily waited patiently as Mona was called, followed by Noel, Ali, and the glossy-haired tributes from district three. She found herself wishing she could use her talent in swimming in the session. It was possible, likely actually, for there to be water in the arena.

Her heart was pounding by the time her name was called. She took slow, cautious steps into the gymnasium, flinching when the steel doors snapped shut behind her.

The gymnasium looked much bigger when it was empty. All of the stations were still in the same places, but without tributes conversing and moving between them, the room seemed infinitely larger and more imposing.

Several gamemakers were seated on a balcony overlooking the gym floor. They looked at her attentively, not yet bored from watching the earlier tributes.

"I'm Emily Fields from district four," she introduced herself. The onlookers nodded, so she began her session by heading for the rope station, just as she'd planned. She'd helped her mother out with weaving nets for as long as she could remember. Her hands were calm and steady as she recreated two of the net traps one of the instructors had demonstrated on the second day of training. It felt natural. If she closed her eyes, it could almost feel like she was in her tiny living room back home.

She finished her work at the station by creating a simple snare. Next, she walked over to the weights section, feeling their eyes on her back with each step. Emily was competent with many of the weapons, but she didn't have years of skill and practice with any, and she feared she would be overshadowed by other tributes. Weights were a safe choice. Nothing could be wrong with demonstrating strength she knew she was capable of.

After a couple of minutes spent throwing around heavy weights, she began to feel uneasy. No one was dismissing her, meaning there was still more time to fill, but she had nothing else planned. The pressure weighed more heavily on her with each passing second.

Emily looked over helplessly at the obstacle course. Would a fast time running through it be enough to impress the gamemakers? A slight panic rose within her as she searched ideas. Then her brain went on autopilot. There was something she could do. It would be risky.

She jogged over to the ropes section with a few small but moderately heavy dumbbells in hand. Carefully, she knotted the rope around the skinny, middle section of the small weights and secured one to each of her ankles. The bigger ones were then tied around her waist. She used the strongest knot she could call to mind to keep them from slipping. The metal and rope dug into her sides each time she took a breath.

_What a stupid idea, _she thought when moving proved difficult. Red marks were appearing on her ankles already and her midsection ached, but she managed to drag herself over to the obstacle course.

She wasn't going to be able to make it through while being pulled down by weights. That much was obvious. She had to make it past the first wall at least, because it was too late to change her mind. Taking the weights off at this point would make her a coward.

Keeping them on and falling would leave her injured.

The wall before her was about twenty feet high and painted to look like a cliff. Every few feet, there were small indents that served as foot-holders. During training, Emily had managed to climb it without relying too heavily on them. She wasn't taking that chance now.

She stepped up into the first space, grimacing as the dumbbells tugged her in the opposite direction. _Such a horrible idea_. _Wearing weights to climb a wall, really? _

The brunette took as deep a breath as the rope around her allowed when she steadied herself. Slowly, she pulled herself further up the wall. It was difficult to place her feet without the weights getting in the way and blocking her.

Her hands weren't sure and firm like before. They were red and sweaty and shaking. Every move had to be carefully calculated. Failure wasn't an option. Twice she almost slipped, and a blast of panic went through her. The only upside was the adrenaline that took over her muscles slightly after, giving her the push she needed.

It felt as if a lifetime had passed by the time she hoisted herself onto the top of the wall. She sat at the top, breathing deeply as she untied and relinquished the extra weight. Though exhausted, she felt a sense of triumph. She'd done it. She'd practically defeated gravity itself.

Her body ached and she didn't feel strong enough to run through the rest of the course. Instead, she stood up, balancing carefully on the thin platform, and faced the gamemakers.

"Thank you," she said with a bow.

It was difficult to read their reaction. Their expressions were serious, but a few were leaning forward nodding slightly. That had to be a good sign.

She half climbed, half jumped down from the wall and winced at the impact in her heels that she would never get used to. Moments later, she was safely out the door. It was over. She had survived.

If her score was high enough, she could finally earn some respect from her mentor. Maybe they would stop looking at her like she was made of glass.

* * *

The familiar Capitol seal signaled the beginning of the broadcast. Ali crossed her legs as she waited for the idle banter between the co-hosts to end. She was eager to see her training score.

Apparently, Noel was, too. He was unable to sit still at all. Every few seconds he would shift and mumble a complaint about the long-winded introduction.

Alison shushed him when the scores began rolling for district one. It was custom for tributes from career districts to score between an eight and ten. The highest score of twelve was completely unobtainable. It was no surprise when Nate and Mona got scores of nine and ten, respectively.

Both tributes tensed when Noel's picture came onto the screen. A bolded number ten appeared below the picture soon after, causing the boy to jump up and pump his fist in the air. Ali rolled her eyes. His antics were only distracting until her own picture replaced his.

She took a deep breath and waited. Noel set the bar with a ten. Surely she was as good as Noel, if not better.

The number nine materialized near her picture as the announcer read the score. A nine. It was a better score than most tributes could hope for, but Alison's first reaction was a stab of disappointment.

"It's okay, Ali. A nine isn't too bad," Noel said, just as she'd expected. Ali clenched her fists as she debated whether or not to respond to the blatant attack to her pride.

Trying to hold her tongue was a useless battle.

"These numbers probably aren't even accurate. The difference between a nine and a ten means nothing in the arena, so I really don't care," Ali commented, unable to stop herself. Truthfully, she was wondering what more she could have done during her session. Archery and knife-throwing seemed like enough at the time.

She'd considered showing the gamemakers her knowledge of poisonous plants. During training, Alison realized she remembered the names of many of them from summer days spent in the grassy field between the old DiLaurentis and Hastings houses. Spencer used to examine each green stem and gentle bloom before rattling off a list of facts. Maybe that knowledge could've gotten her a ten.

Noel nodded after considering her words. "Yeah, you're probably right. It doesn't matter," he said. Alison looked at him questioningly, knowing it was unlike him to relent when there was a chance to further the conflict.

The first tribute from three was rolling across the screen when he added, "There probably wouldn't even be a difference in our scores if you hadn't dropped out of the training academy back home. They say the ones who aren't dedicated never survive the arena," he finished, waiting for Alison to take the bait.

"You're lucky we're not in the arena right now. Seriously, shut up and mind your own damn business," Alison snapped. She grabbed for the remote and threw it hard at Noel's shoulder.

"Alison! That's not polite!" the escort yelled from the dinner table.

Ali decided to ignore both the escort and Noel. She'd already missed the scores of the weird kids from three and the quiet boy from four. Emily's score would be next. She crossed her legs and clasped her hands over her knee – hopefully that would keep her from throwing something else at the idiot beside her.

The dark-haired girl's familiar face was at the center of the screen. Ali raised her eyebrows when she saw the number that accompanied her picture.

Nine. Just like Alison, and she didn't even have prior training.

"I wonder what she showed them," Alison said, thinking out loud even though she was thoroughly annoyed with the only people who could speculate with her. She was glad that her ally could hold her own, but also frightened by the fact that there were several others at least as strong as she was.

"We'll have to take her down. She's stronger than she looks," Noel said.

Ali didn't respond. The two of them continued watching the program in relative silence. The higher the district numbers got, the lower the average training score became. Most scores fell in the mid-range of five to seven, with a few eights here and there. There were also a few disturbingly low outliers. The blonde felt secondhand embarrassment for the two tributes who only managed to score a three.

Jason came through the doors of the suite near the end of the broadcast. He looked more ragged and pale than he had a few days before. It was like watching a slow but steady downward spiral; one that couldn't be helped by anything except sheer willpower, which her brother seemed to lack. Alison was once again reminded why she vowed never to touch morphling for as long as she would live.

"You're a little late," Alison told him, not quite in a gentle voice but not in an accusing tone, either. He looked too pathetic for that.

Her brother started to take off his jacket. Before he could even hang it up, a shiver went through him and he slid it back on, even though it was warm both inside and outside the building. "I caught most of it. There's a TV on nearly every block. Good job on that score, by the way," he said.

He started down the hallway that led to the bedrooms. Disappearing like always.

Alison followed him without hesitation. She stopped Jason from slamming the door behind him, almost smashing her fingers in the process. "Jason, it's literally your job to be there for me for this one week out of your life, and all you've done is hide in your room like a scared little kid. Are we going to talk or not?"

He stared at her with wide eyes, like a cornered animal. Sometimes, Alison could swear she was the older one between the two of them.

"I never asked for this job," he said, still staring. "What you don't understand is that there's nothing I can possibly teach you that will make the Hunger Games any easier. I wasn't even supposed to win my own Games."

"But you did," Ali said carefully. She slipped further into the room and closed the door behind her. "You must have done something right."

"I stayed out of the final fight. They thought I was done for, so the last two tributes destroyed each other instead. I won because they made a mistake."

Alison vaguely remembered watching it. What she did remember was their mother's shrill scream at the sight of her son being struck down. She remembered shutting her eyes and whimpering, but the actual sight of Jason bleeding out on the ground was lost to her. Then something happened. Something changed, and her brother was being announced as victor. There was chaos and tears and the hope that everything would be alright again.

And it was. Kind of. That's what the DiLaurentis family liked to believe, anyway. That it was all good, even though Jason came home completely altered. This was the most he'd talked about his experience in _years_. At least this was a start, right?

"You could've claimed it as strategy. I have my own plan for the Games, if you want to hear it," Ali told him.

Jason sat down, looking tired, but he nodded his head.

"I don't plan on sticking around with Noel and the other careers. If I pretend to be on their side for a while, I can breeze though the start of the Games and get all the supplies I need."

"That sounds like a good idea. I never liked Noel, anyway," Jason said, causing Alison to smile. "I'd say stay with them until half of the tributes are gone. That's when they tend to start turning on each other. Leave earlier if you have to."

His next question took her by surprise. "Do you plan on killing them or running away?"

"I, um… whatever's necessary," she answered, suddenly feeling self-conscious. The idea of having to fight the others had crossed her mind several times, but she hadn't stopped to think of what it would be like to kill them. She imagined holding a knife while watching the life drain out of Noel's face, his expression replaced by the stillness of a corpse, and felt sick.

"He's been low-key threatening me all week," she said to justify the possibility of hurting him. Not wanting to talk further on the subject, she added, "I chose an ally. Emily Fields from district four. I was planning on meeting up with her after the first day or two."

"Are you sure she can be trusted?"

"Definitely," Alison said automatically. "I'm great at reading people and she's already proven herself. I really like her. I mean, like, as a person." She felt embarrassed for having hurriedly added the last part and wished she could rephrase it.

It was stupid, but ever since Noel confessed Emily used to have feelings for her, Alison's thoughts about the other girl had been a bit jumbled. Everything that happened over the past few days was in a different light. Ali wanted to know more about the girl. It felt good to see her dark eyes light up each time they talked.

"Proven herself?" Jason asked, calling her attention back. Now she thought of the mystery floor and the twinge of helplessness she felt when the man's rough hand circled her waist, his fingers brushing over the top of her thigh. Em pushed him away. She shielded her and told her she deserved to be treated better.

That conversation had been on her mind each night since. It also worried her knowing there would be no protection in the future, if she even survived to that point.

She looked again at her brother. "Jason, I'm going to ask you something. Please be honest with me." Her hands were fidgety and she found it hard to continue. She dropped her voice down to a whisper reserved for secrets. "Does the Capitol force you into doing things with people who pay for your time? Do all victors go on sale?"

He froze, all deer in headlights again. Then he jumped up from his spot with a sharper, faster movement than Ali had seen from him in a long time. "You need to stop talking, _now._"

The blonde girl blinked several times. Her mouth fell open slightly, but there were no words to come out. No sense of what was happening. Before she could do anything, Jason was storming out the room and dragging her with him.

"Jason, what the hell?"

Her brother didn't give her any response as they left the suite and got in the elevator. He pushed the top button again and again, shaking his head impatiently. When the elevator ride ended, they were on the roof. Warm summer air wrapped around them. The top of the building was beautifully decorated with colorful gardens, but Ali barely had a chance to notice.

"You went on that floor, didn't you? God, Ali, why do you never listen?" he said, exasperated. His voice was still low even though they were outdoors.

Ali kept hers at the same volume. "Maybe I wouldn't have to go looking for answers if you would've told me in the first place!"

"They can hear every word you say, you know. There are microphones everywhere, and the Capitol doesn't like nosy tributes."

"Well I didn't know!" Alison suddenly felt like crying, but she wouldn't dare let that happen. "It's too late to take it back, so you might as well tell me if it's true."

Jason's breaths looked heavier than her own. He nodded slightly and turned to face the gardens. "I can't talk about any more of this with you. Your life is different now, Ali, whether you survive or not. You have to choose what you think the better option is."

For a while, the only sound was the whistling of the wind. Ali swallowed hard as she considered what he meant.

"I'm sorry, Jason," she said in a voice barely above a whisper. Moving forward, she wrapped her arms around him clumsily. She couldn't remember the last time they'd shared an embrace. It wasn't what they were used to.

But then her big brother hugged her back, and in some way they both understood what the other one was facing. They were broken and imperfect. They didn't fit together well, but they were both here, supporting each other more now than they ever did in the past.

Somehow it was good.


	6. Interviews and a rooftop rendezvous

**A/N: Woah, a long chapter and fast update! I was so happy with the response from the last chapter. This story is now at 50 reviews! Thanks especially to the regular reviewers. I think you'll like this one. **

* * *

"Try to walk in these. They're called stilettos," the stylist said as she handed Emily a pair of skinny high heels.

Emily did as she was told. She pulled up the bottom of her deep blue gown and slid on the shoes. Standing felt unnatural and walking was worse. It perplexed her how anyone would willing want to walk around with their feet at this angle.

After crossing the room in unsteady steps and making it back to her chair, Emily looked down at the shoes again. Around her ankles, she could see faint makeup lines from where the stylist covered up the bruises she'd gotten from her training session.

"Be thankful for your natural height," the stylist spoke up again. "Most tributes have to wear much taller heels. You're getting off easy."

The woman's most defining characteristic was easily the patchwork of colors tattooed across her face. It was an intricate pattern that drowned out her features, save for her eyes, which were clearly outlined in a rim of black. She looked strange, but when she spoke, her words were kind. Emily decided she liked her.

"Thank goodness for that," Emily agreed. "I'm not sure I could walk in anything higher."

"Are you ready to see how you look?" the stylist asked.

Emily nodded. The interviews were starting in less than an hour, and she still hadn't gotten a full look at her dress or makeup. Preparation had consumed the day.

The older woman wheeled a full length mirror over and asked Emily to stand up. She peered at her own reflection, almost not recognizing herself. Sure, she had worn a good bit of makeup for the Tribute Parade, but that was part of a costume. The styling tonight was much more elegant.

Her eye shadow was a smoky dark gray with hints of midnight blue to match her dress. The gown itself was long and form-fitting. It fanned out a little at the bottom; long enough to cover her feet but not so long that it would cause her to trip. Her hair was down and curled, dark against the blue.

Emily always thought of herself as having a more casual style. Even in her district, where designer clothes were a luxury no one could afford, she'd always worn simple outfits compared to her friends. She wondered what they would think when they saw her on TV tonight.

"What do you think?" the woman asked.

"I like it a lot. You're very talented," Emily answered while turning in front the mirror. Her response was honest. She did like it a lot. Much more than she expected to.

She watched her stylist smile through the reflection of the mirror. "Come on. It's time to go now," the woman said gently, guiding her out the room. Meredith was waiting on the other side.

"She looks fine," her mentor said in a bored tone. The statuesque blonde was much more subdued than normal. There had been an incident the night before where she'd freaked out for no reason and started throwing chairs. Emily hadn't seen much of it. By the time the noise got loud enough to be alarming and she'd come out from her room, there were unfamiliar people pushing Meredith back and giving her an injection.

"Sorry about this," one of the Capitol men had said apologetically when he noticed Emily. "Someone hasn't been taking their medications, I'm afraid."

Emily and Meredith hadn't talked much since then. Luckily, the breakdown came after the training score broadcast, so Emily was able to see her mentor's eyes widen when it was revealed she'd earned a nine. The brunette had never been one to gloat, but she couldn't help feeling smug. Meredith had underestimated her. Now they both knew it.

Meredith was studying her now, which was more attention than she'd given her since day they arrived in the Capitol. She looked like she was on the verge of saying something. Hopefully an apology of sorts.

"You may have been able to score a nine, but it means nothing if you're not strong enough to kill. You don't have what it takes," she said.

Nope. Not an apology. Nothing would be good enough for her, and Emily had already wasted too much energy worrying about proving herself to someone who didn't care.

Emily rolled her eyes. "Okay, then. Thanks for being my mentor. You've really helped prepare me."

With that, she turned away from the young woman and walked down the hall in the direction her stylist had gone. They were all going to the same place.

An enormous studio complete with a stage and stadium seating was waiting just outside the building. Not many tributes were backstage yet by the time Emily arrived. She could see the duo from district eight standing with an escort.

She caught sight of a blonde in a light orange dress further into the room. Alison was walking around with her brother, Jason, who Emily had seen before both on TV and in person, though she'd never spoken to him. From the little bits of information she'd gathered about Alison's family, she got the feeling they weren't close.

But they seemed to be getting along well enough at the moment.

Alison looked in her direction so Emily waved. The blonde smiled back and motioned for her to come closer. Emily took a deep breath – she always felt like she needed to collect herself before talking to the girl- and started toward them. Her heels made clacking noises against the polished floor. She had to focus on each step because she might die of embarrassment if she tripped along the way.

Alison's golden hair was pulled half up. The half that draped over her shoulders was curled beautifully, as usual. Her pastel dress was shorter than Emily's, only reaching halfway down her thigh. Though not a full length gown, it still managed to be form-fitting and bring attention to her hips.

No model could compare. Emily's heartbeat quickened and her mouth felt dry. Anything she was going to say in greeting was lost to her sudden inability to function.

She must have been going crazy. She had to be truly out of her mind because she could've sworn she saw Alison's eyes drop in a not-so-subtle body scan as well. No, there was no way she imagined it, but it the other girl was just taking note of Emily's outfit. That was a normal thing to do. Better to not read into it.

Apparently, Jason noticed it as well. He nudged his sister's shoulder.

Ali turned to meet his questioning gaze and frowned. Looking back at Emily, she said, "Hey, Em. This is my brother, Jason, but you probably knew that. Jason, this is Emily."

"Nice to meet you," Emily responded automatically. There was a resemblance between the siblings. For as much as they looked alike, there was also a clear difference in how they presented themselves. Jason's dress shirt was untucked and his hair was messy. Alison never went anywhere without looking perfectly put together.

"Ali's talked about you," Jason said, causing Emily's stomach to flip.

"I told him about our alliance," his sister quickly explained.

"Yeah, she did. She seems to have high regards for you. It's weird, since usually any time she mentions someone's name it's to bitch about them," Jason said, clearly enjoying the response he was getting out of Alison. If looks could kill…

"You can leave now!" Ali huffed.

"Okay, fine," he said, putting his hands up in surrender. "I'm going find my seat."

Ali let out a dramatic sigh when Jason was out of earshot. Emily found the whole thing amusing. She tried to hold back a laugh.

Alison saw her and shook her head. "No, that was _not_ funny. He's obnoxious."

"It's funny because you were bothered by it. It's kind of cute, seeing siblings act like that. It must be nice to have a brother," Emily said.

"If I were you, I'd stick with being an only child." Alison looked at something over Emily's shoulder and the brunette turned around to see that the room was quickly filling up with tributes. They would have to line up any minute now to ensure everyone was in place for the start of the show.

"It doesn't look like we have much time," Ali began, "so we should meet up later tonight to finalize the plans and all. Maybe on the rooftop. What do you think?"

"Definitely," Emily agreed.

"Okay, good. Noel's coming in, so I need to go." She started walking off, but then she spun around like she'd forgotten something. "Oh, by the way, congrats on that score."

"You too. I mean, we got the same score, so yeah," Emily said, feeling warmth come to her cheeks after the lame response. "Good luck with the interview," she added.

"Same to you, of course," Ali said. She looked like she wanted to say something else but decided against it. Soon she was crossing the room, walking effortlessly in her heels.

Not long after, everyone was forced to line up by district. Emily had never experienced the chaos that happened in the moments before the broadcast of a show. There were frustrated cries of cameras not working and escorts running up to the line to adjust tributes' clothing. A few unruly boys tried to cut in line, which led to a full blown fit from one of the workers and a lot of shoving.

Emily was grateful to escape from the backstage drama when they were led out to the stage. There was a countdown: three, two, one, action! In an instant, everything was silent and under control.

The first thing Emily noticed was the blinding light that soaked the stage. The second she blinked, dark spots covered her vision. She was temporarily blinded, but she followed the sound of heels clacking in front of her while being careful not to stumble on her own shoes.

As the tributes sat down, the surroundings became clear. Though black spots still floated in front of her eyes, Emily could see the audience. There had to be thousands of people out there.

She could see Caesar Flickerman's lime green hair. He was welcoming the audience. Individual words sounded blurred together, and Emily began to worry she wouldn't be able to hear him when it was her turn. It was so bright, and there were so many people. It was overwhelming.

The interviews were only three minutes each. It was just enough time to get a taste of who each person was. In her nervousness, Emily could barely pay attention to Mona's interview. All she could do was try to keep her hands from quivering. During the next interview, she tried to picture what would be asked of her and how she should answer.

Alison was third. Emily's curiosity was enough to make her attentive.

Caesar warmly welcomed her. As expected, the first question was about her being the sister of a previous victor.

"Alison DiLaurentis, we've all watched you grow up over the past five years," the host said, his teeth somehow gleaming brighter than the lights aimed at the stage. "Tell me, how does it feel to walk in your brother's footsteps?"

Ali smiled before answering, but Emily could tell that it wasn't genuine when it didn't reach her eyes. "That's not the way I see it. People need to realize that I'm my own person. I'm not walking in Jason's footsteps. I'm making my own."

It was a good answer. The crowd cheered appropriately and Caesar clapped along with them. All at once, his cheery nature became serious again, and he leaned back to Ali.

"Of course you are. It's true that you've always come across as very strong willed. Should we expect to see more of that side of you in the arena? We'd love to hear your strategy."

Now the blonde's smile was different. It was small, knowing and mysterious. "I always have a plan," she confirmed, "But I can't give away my secrets. Disclosing information to those who could take advantage of it is the quickest path to destruction. I'm too smart for that. And, anyway, it's more fun to leave you guessing."

Caesar nodded along and made a few comments to the audience. His next question got Emily's attention. She leaned in her seat, a little scared of what the girl's answer would be.

"Is there anyone special back home? Someone you're eager to get back to?" he'd just asked.

Alison shifted in her seat. "No," she said simply, not elaborating.

Caesar looked unconvinced. "Come on, surely there must be."

"I'm fighting for myself, not for anyone else," she said, still looking uncomfortable. She sat up straighter. After a slight pause, she said, "I don't associate myself with weak emotions like love or fear. That's not going to win the Hunger Games."

"But you can't choose not to feel those emotions. Even if you don't have a special someone, you still must love your family, and it's normal for tributes to feel some degree of fear as well," Caesar reasoned.

"I'm very in control of what I feel," Alison insisted.

The buzzer went off, signaling the end of her interview. Emily watched her as she went back to her seat. The way she'd answered the last question was troubling.

Emily knew that Alison wasn't an emotionally hardened ice queen. She'd seen the blonde in a state of distress. She recalled how she'd reached for her hand when they were escaping the twisted men in the ballroom. Ali had been scared at that moment, too.

There were other sides of the girl. She could be gentle and caring. Contemplative. Boastful, yet endearing. Underneath it all, there was vulnerability. The Capitol would never know. They took everything the tributes said at face value.

Emily could choose how they would see her. Her training score was a start, but this was the last chance to make sure the Capitol was acquainted with Strong Emily rather than Shy Emily.

There were only three interviews between hers and Alison's. A total of nine minutes.

Before she knew it, she was center stage, seated next to Caesar Flickerman and his neon hair.

"Emily Fields, you look lovely tonight," the host said in introduction.

"Thank you," Emily responded. She hated that her voice came out quiet. Meek.

"I'll start by saying what's on all of our minds. You scored a nine in training! That's quite an impressive feat. There's speculation on whether you may be the dark horse of this year's Games."

"Thank you," Emily said again before mentally slapping herself for repeating it. She looked out into the crowd and tried to form an appropriate response. "That's an amazing compliment. I-I worked really hard for that score because I needed to prove to others and myself that I shouldn't be underestimated. I think I've proved that."

Her muscles relaxed when a portion of the crowd clapped in assent.

"You've convinced me and I'm sure you've convinced the Capitol," Caesar said with a smile. "Your parents must be proud."

"I hope so. They're very important to me."

"Would you like to tell us more about them?"

"Sure," Emily agreed, relieved that she got an easy question. "My mother and I don't see eye to eye on everything, but we always take care of each other and I wouldn't trade her for the world."

She took a breath before continuing. "And I've always been very close with my father. He's a high-ranking peacekeeper in my district. Some people have their opinions on that…but I know my father, and I know he's a man of integrity. He always told me that knowing when to make the right decision is the most important part of having power. I hope my actions make him proud."

"That's very admirable," Caesar commented. "One last question, Emily, before we run out of time. What do you hope will be in the arena this year?"

"Water," Emily answered without missing a beat. "Definitely water."

"That's all the time we have. Let's give another round of applause for Miss Emily Fields!" the host shouted as the buzzer sounded.

* * *

It was the last night.

Twelve hours from now, Alison would enter an unknown world. It could very well be the place where she would take her final breath.

But for now, she was still in this world, held within the confines of the training center that had become familiar to her. This was her second and last time taking the elevator to the rooftop. She'd managed to sneak out of the suite while everyone else settled in for bed, exhausted from the long day of preparation and interviews.

The summer night air was warm enough for her not to be cold in her flimsy silk pajamas. She scanned the rooftop and saw Emily sitting near the edge. The girl had her arms wrapped around her legs and was looking out at the bright city lights.

"Hey," Ali said as she plopped down and joined the other girl.

Emily didn't look startled. She must have heard her coming. "Hey," she said, turning to smile at Ali.

Alison couldn't help smiling in return. She looked up in the sky to avoid staring for too long. It was a deep purple, blank and starless.

"The sky is very empty here," Emily said, as if reading her thoughts. "It looks lonely."

"I wonder if we'll see stars in the arena," Ali wondered aloud. "Speaking of that, we need to work out a better plan."

Emily nodded. "When exactly are we supposed to meet up? And how are we going to find each other? If I hear someone approaching, my first instinct would be to run."

Alison frowned when she considered all the holes in the plan. It sounded so simple at first. "Well," she pondered, "I think I can run away from them at some point on the second day. Really, I just need to stick with them through the bloodbath and get some supplies. Maybe I can set something up so they think something happened to me. Like I was taken."

"They wouldn't see your face in the sky. They would know you're alive, and they would look for you," Emily said.

"I don't know," Ali said, looking at the ground. "I think Noel wants me dead. He feels threatened by me, I guess. I have no doubt that he'd turn on me eventually."

"Maybe you shouldn't go with them at all," Emily said in concern.

"No, I have to. At least for the bloodbath." Alison looked over to the girl who had become her friend in recent days. Her eyes were wide and her expression was one of worry. Alison realized that the brunette would be the more vulnerable one at the beginning of the Games. Emily was worrying about Alison, when really, Alison should be more concerned about Emily.

"As soon as the countdown ends, you need to run to safety, okay? Don't worry about me. Just protect yourself and I'll bring you supplies as soon as possible. I promise. Just try to stay close but not too close, if that makes sense. So I can find you," Ali said. She hated the thought of Emily getting hurt when she was alone and frightened.

"Okay," Emily agreed quietly.

Moments of silence passed. Alison had another thought. She looked down at the purple bracelet around her wrist and unhooked it. "Some extra insurance," she explained as she fastened it around Emily's wrist. "If Noel or the others find you for some reason, show them this and let them know that I'll kill them all if they don't leave you alone."

Emily looked down at the bracelet and ran her fingers over the embroidered name. _Alison_.

It was quiet again. "Ali?" Emily asked, her voice slow and tentative. Alison liked the sound of her nickname on the other girl's lips.

"What is it, Em?"

"Do you…do you think it will be easy to kill? Aren't you scared?"

She was scared. She was beyond terrified, and she felt goose bumps every time she thought about it. Except she wasn't supposed to be afraid. She was supposed to be Alison DiLaurentis- a girl who was beyond such emotions. The girl from the interview.

"I am scared," Ali admitted quietly, knowing Emily wouldn't judge. Still, she felt her heart beat faster with the confession. "I probably will kill, though, to protect myself." _I'm not a good person like you are_, she added in her thoughts.

Emily nodded slowly. "It's the logical thing to do to survive, but I don't know if I can do it."

Alison tried to decide how to voice her thoughts. "That's not something to be ashamed of. It means you're too good for the Hunger Games. You don't deserve to be here."

"Neither do you," Emily responded immediately.

"Yeah, but I deserve it more than you do. What Jason said earlier was true. I'm bitchy. I'm not nice. I don't want to be here, either, but we're not on equal moral ground."

To her surprise, Emily reached over and held her hand. "Ali, listen. You're a good person. I know it. I've seen it. I also know that you've been through a lot, and that you have a tendency to be hard on yourself. You deserve to live just as much as I do. I'm sure your friends and family are rooting for you, too."

"Maybe," Alison said. She wasn't completely convinced, but the words hit her hard in some mushy, vulnerable place.

The brunette was still looking at her, making sure she was okay, and it hit her suddenly, slammed into her, that the affections the other girl had for her weren't so one-sided. And it scared Alison half to death how those words were enough to make her heart jump.

"Your family sounds really nice," Ali said, trying to hide the shakiness that was seeping into her voice. "Aria and Hanna, too. Is there anyone else in your district who's really important to you, like a significant other or whatever?" She was embarrassed by the question as soon as it left her mouth.

Emily looked away almost immediately, but her hand stayed over Alison's. "No, I've never really dated anyone," she said sheepishly.

"Oh. I don't really date much, either. I've had a few flings here and there. Nothing important. But, you've like, still made out with people, right? You don't have to date someone to do that."

Even in the relative darkness, Ali could see Emily's face flush. Alison's fingers brushed against the girl's wrist and felt her pulse quicken considerably.

"I-I um, n-not really. No," she stammered.

Now it was time for Alison's eyes to widen. "Really?" she asked, her mouth gaping. When she saw the brunette's panicked expression, she added, "I'm not trying to be rude. I just don't understand how you could look like _that_ and make it to seventeen without people lining up to kiss you."

"I, um." Emily took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm her nerves. "I have kissed someone before, but it was just a couple of pecks, and I didn't feel anything. I didn't like it because…"

Alison waited patiently for her to continue.

"The problem was that he was a guy," she finished. Em's hand was shaking, so Alison put her other hand over it to comfort her.

"I already knew. It's okay."

"You did?" she asked. She still sounded nervous, probably wondering just how much Alison was aware of.

"Yeah. I don't blame you for not being into guys. Half the ones I know are disgusting. It's like they were raised in a cave without being taught basic manners." That got a little smile out of Emily, so Alison added, "And then there's high school guys who try to grow moustaches. Like, am I supposed to be impressed? It looks like a dog shed on their face."

"It kind of does," Emily agreed with a small laugh.

"But really, how has no girl kissed you? That doesn't seem fair."

Emily shrugged. "It's okay. I've kind of accepted that it's not going to happen. At least not with the person I wanted."

The pulse in her wrist was galloping again. Alison could feel it. She could also feel herself aching to do something impulsive. Tomorrow would change everything. This could be her only chance.

"Em?"

The girl turned to face her, waiting to hear what she had to say. Ali didn't speak at first. She looked into brown eyes and wondered if Emily felt the shift in the air.

"We can change that," Ali said, her voice sounding much stronger than how she felt inside. Her heart was beating so loudly she could hear it thumping in her ears.

Emily's eyes were wide with shock. She looked at Ali carefully, as if not quite believing this was happening. Twice her eyes flashed to Ali's lips.

Then the brunette reached out and brushed a strand of golden hair behind Ali's ear. She leaned in and their lips brushed against each other's. Slowly and gently. Sweetly.

They both pulled back after a few seconds and searched the other's eyes before leaning in again. The kiss was more firm this time, but only slightly deeper. Emily's hand cupped Alison's face and Ali brought her own arms around Emily's shoulders.

It felt better than Alison had imagined. Familiar jitters were in her stomach when they pulled away again and her skin felt layered with warmth.

Emily was looking at her, biting her lip, but it didn't take long for an adorable smile to spread across her face. "Wow," she breathed out.

"Wow is right," Ali said, playing with a strand of Emily's dark hair. She pulled her hand away when she remembered that they would both be in the arena in less than twelve hours. Kissing another tribute shouldn't be at the top of her priorities.

She wished tomorrow would never come. She could stay here forever and learn to love the starless sky. There was more potential on this rooftop than she'd realized.

"We should get some rest. This isn't goodbye," Alison said, lifting herself up.

"Good night, Ali. I'll see you soon," Emily told her.

As she left, Alison prayed circumstances would allow those words to be true.

* * *

**A/N: Sooo... I guess that answers the question from guest reviewer shine. I wanted Emily and Ali to have a long interaction before being thrown into the Games :)**


	7. Run for your life

**A/N: Oh my gosh, all of those reviews for the last chapter were so adorable. Reading them made me smile a lot. There will be more fluff, just not particularly in this chapter, with it being the bloodbath and all. There's also a few hints for things that come later in the story, though they may be hard to spot right now. Enjoy and please review!**

* * *

It took hours for sleep to find her.

When Alison finally drifted off, her rest was short-lived and fitful. It felt like she'd only just closed her eyes before soft morning light peeked through her window.

All night, her mind was charged with endless thoughts that traveled in circles. The arena. The careers. How many hours would it take for blood to stain her hands? Whose blood would it be, and could it ever wash away? She had to run before a fight became inevitable. Run to Emily.

Emily.

Alison brought a finger to her lips. Her thoughts constantly looped back to the kiss. Em's lips felt so good, so natural against her own. Thinking of it made Alison feel warm all over again. She'd give anything to relive the experience and see Emily's face light up with a smile after Alison gave her exactly what she wanted. What they both wanted.

Then Ali's heart clenched, because the timing of all of this was horrific.

As if to prove her point, the escort burst through the door with an announcement. "Time to get up, up, up! The arena is waiting," he chirped, blissfully unaware of Alison's lack of enthusiasm.

She rolled over in her bed and sighed into a pillow one last time before forcing herself to get up.

"No need to get dressed," the escort told her, waving around his stupid pocket watch again. "Your outfit is waiting in the launch room. Come on now, time is short. You'll be served breakfast on the flight."

Ali was already peeved. She held her tongue because she knew it wasn't the chirpy escort that was causing her annoyance. He was feeding into it, sure, but in reality, it was the product of a lack of sleep and a sea of anxiety about what was coming her way.

She refrained from speaking at all as he led her out to the hovercraft. Breakfast was quiet and lonely. All the tributes were to be kept separate until the start of the Games. A woman in a lab coat came from a back room and, without warning, injected something into Alison's arm.

She flinched when she felt the sting and a feeling of something solid below her skin. "What was that for?" Alison demanded as she spun around.

"Insertion of the tracker is standard procedure. It ensures we know your location at all times," the woman explained in a monotone voice. It was a rehearsed answer to a common question.

Alison frowned but didn't comment. The sting was slowly beginning to subside. All she could do was wait.

It was a thirty minute ride to her destination. As soon as the hovercraft landed, Alison was guided to an underground area called the launch room.

Her stylist was there already, holding out a bag of clothes. Alison examined the contents. The entire outfit was comprised of neutral, woodsy colors. There was a green shirt and a pair of tan pants with belt loops. As Alison changed, the stylist handed her some dark brown boots and a long jacket.

The ensemble was far from glorious. As long as it was functional, it would be good enough. Alison watched her reflection in the mirror as the stylist pulled her straightened hair into a ponytail.

Her body stiffened when doors to a glass tube on the opposite side of the room slid open. A mechanized voice accompanied it.

_Please enter the capsule. You have sixty seconds._

That wasn't enough time to prepare herself. She wasn't ready.

The seconds were ticking by fast, though, so she made an effort to pull herself together. This wasn't the time to be weak. It took exactly eleven steps to cross the room and step into the tube. The doors closed almost immediately. Alison had never been claustrophobic, but she hated the feeling of being locked in. It meant there was nowhere left to run.

This was it.

The platform she stood on started moving up the tube. The sight of the room was replaced with complete darkness. A total absence of everything. Ali reached out for the edges of the tube to make sure it was still there. Her heart was pounding now and her stomach twisted in the worst way.

When light came again, it was blinding. As Alison blinked against the sun, she became aware of a slight breeze brushing against her skin. She opened her eyes and saw a field of color. Green. Lots of green. Something blue in the distance.

A one-minute countdown started overhead. The numbers were already halfway through the fifties before Alison registered it.

_Fifty-five, fifty-four, fifty-three…_

The arena was shaped like an oval. She and the other tributes were on the edge of a sprawling meadow. All twenty-four of them were glued to their metal platforms equidistant from the golden Cornucopia. Dense woods surrounded the clearing on every side. Far away, deep into the oval shape, Ali could see a sparkling lake.

The blonde looked back to the tributes around her. Noel was leaning forward in his spot, angling himself toward the Cornucopia. Emily was further over. The two girls made eye contact for a few short seconds. Ali nodded to the woods and hoped the brunette understood that she wanted her to run. It was the safest option.

_Twenty-three, twenty-two, twenty-one…_

Ali could still feel Emily's eyes on her. She reluctantly refrained from looking back. No distractions. Not now. Her attention needed to be on the items around base of the Cornucopia: weapons, food, bags that could be full of anything. A few items were scattered further out, but the most lethal weapons would be on the inside. That's where she needed to be.

The seconds were ticking down. Alison positioned herself carefully, leaning forward and placing her right foot in a spot that would propel her forward.

Her life had been leading up to this moment for years, ever since Jason became a victor and her odds of being reaped increased tenfold. She refused to be a casualty in the bloodbath.

_Three, Two, One… _"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Hunger Games begin!"

Running. In that moment, it was all she'd ever known. Her boots provided traction as she raced through the lush field. Everything around her was a blur.

Her breaths grew heavy as she neared the Cornucopia. She'd made it there fast; it appeared the coast was clear until she caught sight of Noel lunging for a sword a few feet ahead of her. He held it out in Ali's direction. It was enough to almost make her trip in momentary confusion. Then there was panic. Was Noel attacking her?

He swung the sword and Alison dove to the ground. A scream of pain pierced the air directly behind her and stung her ears. She looked back and saw a girl fall to the ground. She had to have been right on her heels the whole time.

Once Ali heard the first scream, the whole scene shifted. No longer was everything fuzzy. The bloodbath was all here, all around her, and it was chaos. There were stabs and shrieks and cries. Kids- no, savages- with contorted faces, displaying the most primal and disturbing side of human nature.

Alison's own survival instincts kicked in. She scrambled off the ground and scooped up a knife.

"Guard the inside!" Noel yelled to her. Her brain was too scrambled to do anything but comply. She made a beeline for the mouth of the Cornucopia, barely dodging a large rock aimed at her head.

Once she was inside, she turned around, holding the knife out in front of her with both hands. There were tributes not far from the entrance, but no one was getting through. The few who came close grabbed a few items at the base and ran. Ali was too shaken to chase them.

It was risky to tear her eyes away from the opening. She stayed in her position until she noticed a quiver full of arrows in the corner of her vision. Turning slightly, she spotted a large silver bow sitting directly beside it. It was better protection than a knife.

Without stopping to think, Alison walked over to the bow. There were other weapons around it, including tridents and knives and even a harpoon gun. An entire tent pack and winter wear was on the ground a few feet away. And then there was food. Not the tiny apples and pears that were scattered around the outside, but real, hearty food packaged into boxes and cans.

There were plenty of items to gather and bring to Emily.

Ali leaned down to grab the bow. A pressure hit her back and she fell on the ground face-first.

Her arms flailed wildly. The weight was still on her back, pushing her down. Hands gripped her neck and squeezed. Her lungs burned from the lack of oxygen.

She was hit with the reality that this was how she would die. Not with a bang, but with a whimper. Never to be remembered.

That was unacceptable.

Alison's entire body shook when she lifted her arm up. The knife was still in her hand. She gripped it with all her strength to keep it from slipping away as she heaved with breathless coughs. It took everything she had to flip herself over and plunge the knife into the side of the invisible force on top of her.

There was a loud grunt. The voice of a boy. The knife wasn't enough to stop him for long, but it gave Alison a small window of opportunity to turn the tables. She flipped herself over the boy and blindly stabbed at his shoulder and then his chest. No thought, only the same instinct that tore apart the humanity of all the other teens in the bloodbath.

Her chest heaved and tears blotted her eyes. The boy beneath her was making a terrible sputtering noise. His clothes were turning red and Alison couldn't look, couldn't handle watching it. A sob started to rise in her chest as she stood up and tried not to notice the glazed over eyes.

Ali had never been pure by any means, but she'd never felt so unclean.

She fought to keep the sob from escaping her lips. No crying. This was necessary. She wasn't the only person with blood on her hands already. Noel was still out in the fading bloodbath and she could clearly see Mona fighting off a taller girl right by the entrance.

Mona didn't even flinch when she slammed the tall girl's head against the side of the Cornucopia. Ali didn't know whether to be amazed by her composure of horrified by the brutality.

"That's all of them," Mona said decisively. "The rest ran for the woods."

The blonde nodded and leaned down again to pick up the bow, feeling less frightened but more numb than she had before.

Ten canons shot off in sequence, their echoes creating a terrible symphony.

* * *

Treetops blocked out the sun and made it impossible to gauge the time of day. It couldn't have been later than early evening, but the shadows that dominated the forest ground made it look like dusk. It only got darker the deeper Emily went.

For hours she'd wandered aimlessly, first putting as much distance between herself and the bloodbath as possible, and then changing paths to avoid going too far. Alison's words from last night served as a guide.

_Don't worry about me. Just try to stay close but not too close, if that makes sense. So I can find you._

Emily twisted Alison's purple bracelet around her wrist. It was risky to be anywhere near the clearing, especially on the first night. Running away from danger was easy. Staying within close proximity of it was hard, but Emily couldn't abandon Ali.

She also couldn't follow the first part of the blonde's request. _Don't worry about me._ How was it possible to not worry? Emily had watched Alison run to the center of a bloodbath to join people she didn't trust.

All of this would be so much easier if the two of them had met in another life under different circumstances. In a way, they had. But back in the days when she lived in district two, Emily was painfully shy and Alison was hardly aware of her existence.

What if Emily had a little more bravery in her back then? If she would've worked up the nerve to approach Alison, to have real conversations with her, would they have become friends? Emily could imagine their younger selves walking down the dirt paths of the district and laughing. Maybe, on that day when Alison ran out of her house in tears, Emily would've been allowed to wrap her arms around the girl and tell her everything would be alright.

Would the comforting embraces eventually have turned into something more? Thinking of the kiss they'd shared last night, Emily was inclined to think it would have. Fate had brought their paths together a few times now, and maybe it was an Aria way of thinking, but Emily felt there was a reason for it.

She had finally gotten a taste of what she'd dreamed of for years. It was a sick joke for fate to bring them together just to take Alison away from her a day later. Maybe fate wasn't a warm and fuzzy entity. Maybe it was cold and unforgiving.

Like the arena.

The temperature was dropping quickly. Emily pulled her jacket closer to her body. The sudden chill in the air indicated night was falling above the already shadowy trees.

After hours of walking and running, her feet were tired and she was desperately in need of water. There was no way she could risk going to the lake situated deep within the meadow. Tomorrow, after Alison joined her, they would have to go further into the woods and look for a river or pond.

The whirring sound of locusts was interrupted by the loud boom of a canon. Then another, and another, and another. They kept shooting off, only stopping after Emily counted the tenth blast. Ten dead tributes on the first day.

A projection appeared in the sky, displaying a picture of each fallen tribute. No one from districts one or two. Relief flooded through her. Ali was still out there.

Even though she'd barely spoken to the other tributes, it still stung to know that all of the faces in the sky were living, breathing people twelve hours ago. Now they were nothing.

Suddenly Emily didn't feel well enough to keep traveling. She settled against a wide oak and leaned her head against the bark. Now was as good a time as ever to rest and sort through the few items she'd picked up at the start of the Games.

It wasn't an impressive collection. After the countdown ended and the tributes took off running, Emily managed to snatch a small green bag lying not far from her pedestal. The inside was filled with fruit. It wouldn't sustain her for long, but she knew grabbing it was completely worthwhile once she sunk her teeth into a piece of cantaloupe. The fruit was delicious and, more importantly, hydrating.

The only other items she'd grabbed and stuffed into the bag were a bent pair of glasses lost from a tribute, rendered useless for fire-starting from the lack of sunlight in the woods, and a small metal square. There was no apparent use for it. Emily turned it over in her hand, feeling the hexagonal indent on the side. She figured it must be meant to fit somewhere, like a key. But there were no locks in an outdoor arena.

The surroundings were now so dark that Emily couldn't see her own hand. She was a tiny speck in a huge black painting. No one would find her huddled against a tree, half covered by shrubbery. It was with that knowledge that she was able to relax enough to drift into a light sleep.

* * *

Something cold tickled her nose.

Emily opened her eyes to the darkness. It wasn't yet morning. She couldn't see, but the cold tapped her again, sliding against her forehead and cheek. Dripping.

Rain. Big droplets were slipping through the branches and brushing against her skin. They began to fall in a quicker frequency, wetting Emily's hair and making her shiver. She could've sworn she felt the leaves around her shift, as if they were reaching for the water.

"Aw man!" came a faint cry in the distance.

Another voice murmured something that sounded like _suck it up_.

Emily strained to hear the bits of conversation. The voices were muddled and unclear. It was difficult to discern much of anything until she heard a name that made her heart skip a beat.

_Alison._

It wasn't her voice. Emily would be able to recognize it if it was. But was she with them? Or were the other careers plotting against her, behind her back?

Emily knew it would be stupid to move, but once she heard Ali's name again in a muffled exchange, she couldn't talk herself out of investigating. Luckily, the heavy rain covered the sound of her steps. It crashed in sheets around her, completely drowning out the noise Emily made untangling a vine that had somehow gotten wrapped around her leg.

A single speck of light contrasted drastically against the murky forest. Emily was instantly drawn to it. The closer she got to the source of the light, the clearer the voices became.

"She can't be left alone for long. Give her half a chance and she'll sabotage everything."

"Mona's with her. They should be able to stay out of trouble for an hour or two. I don't have time to babysit them."

Emily peeked around a tree. The light was right in front of her now, confirming what she already suspected. The voices belonged to Noel and Nate. They were holding out a lantern and each of them wore a large pair of sunglasses, even though the surroundings were far from sunny.

Nate looked around, and, for a moment, the only sound in the world was the roar of the rain. Even when he looked directly at her, he shouldn't have been able to see her. The lantern was shining in the other direction. Emily should've been well hidden in her spot behind the tree.

But she wasn't.

There was a long, horrifying moment when she saw recognition register on his face.

"District four!" he screamed out. In an instant, he and Noel had their spears poised.

Emily was running for her life again. A spear whistled in the air right by her ear. If the other one was thrown, she didn't hear it over the clap of thunder that followed. It was nearly impossible to see the slippery ground, to avoid the branches and stumps that nearly tripped her.

Noel and Nate were fast, but so was Emily. Her heart thumped as she sprinted, and just when it seemed she would lose them for good, the ground sloped up and she fell hard, her ankle twisting painfully in the process.

The light shone on her and she could literally feel Nate creeping up behind her. She kicked her uninjured foot out with as much force as she could muster and hit something solid.

Nate grunted in pain behind her. Emily had just enough time to scramble off the ground before Nate grasped at the back of her jacket. She wiggled her arms out of it and sprinted, managing to keep only the green bag that had fallen to the ground with her. As she ran, she pulled back a low-hanging tree branch and let it swing square into Nate's face. Another grunt of pain. Another brief opportunity to throw off her pursuer.

The rain was freezing against her bare arms and her ankle screamed in pain with every movement. Climbing the wall in her training session was child's play. This was agony.

Emily needed to get off the ground. She ran to a medium-sized tree and wasted no time climbing it. There were no foot holders here; only the uneven texture of bark and intermittent branches to grab on to.

The light from the lantern didn't appear again until she'd swung herself over a high branch. Nate had fallen behind a few seconds and lost track of her. He moved the light around the bottoms of trees, looking for any sign of her. One hand was cupped over his right eye.

Noel reappeared soon after, both spears in hand. "Where did she go?" he asked.

"I don't know!" Nate screamed, his voice overpowering the rain. Emily had never seen him angry, but she knew now that it was a scary sight. "No one disrespects me and gets away with it! You hear that? I'm going to kill you!"

A sharp cry came from another direction, so sudden and without warning that it almost made Emily stumble.

"Come on," Noel said, pulling Nate toward the sound.

"That doesn't sound like her," Nate grumbled.

"We'll get her later. She's staying close to the meadow for a reason. I wouldn't be surprised if we find her trying to steal our supplies. Now come on! I'm not losing another tribute tonight."

Nate grudgingly relented and the two of them disappeared into the trees, leaving only darkness behind.

* * *

The fire was dead from the rain by the time Mona and Alison finished setting up a canopy to protect it. Their source of light and heat was gone, but at least now they had some cover from the storm.

Alison stared at the piles of supplies. The numb feeling that entered her earlier hadn't left since. It only grew when she heard another canon go off in the woods.

She wanted to be away from this place. If she were home, she would escape to her favorite place to be alone. It was a small, secluded spot between buildings, just past the field her father worked in all hours of the day.

She didn't remember when she'd started going there, but there was always something calming about it. Sometimes she'd bring a journal and write down her thoughts. Even if she had a journal on hand now, she wasn't sure she'd be able to explain in writing the way it felt to watch someone die by her own hands.

"I'd be overjoyed to have some of this stuff back home," Mona said, gesturing to the supplies. "I guess it wouldn't make much difference to you, considering your family is already rich," she added.

"Yes, I'm aware. What's your point?" Alison questioned back, giving Mona a look. She could feel her patience wearing thin. All evening, Mona had been asking her pointed questions to size her up. Ali found herself doing the same.

Mona only shrugged. "No reason. I just figured you weren't here for the money."

"Why are you here, Mona? You must have a backstory that led you to volunteer. Everyone does. What are you trying to prove?"

"That I can win the Hunger Games for my district, duh," Mona replied in a fake, teasing voice.

"Okay, whatever. Tell me after you drop the innocent, ditzy girl act."

"My personality is as real as it'll ever be. Is yours?" the shorter girl asked with a smile.

Alison clenched her fists and ignored her. It felt like she was looking in a mirror and having the worst parts of herself reflected back at her. Not just from Mona, either. Nate and Noel especially brought out the side of her that emphasized everything she didn't want to be.

She didn't want to be mean, or hated, or a killer. Just a night ago, she'd actually believed for a second that she could be a _good_ person. She'd been told she was, underneath it all. Right now, it didn't feel like it.

Luckily, Alison wasn't obligated to respond to Mona because Noel and Nate were coming back into the clearing. The first thing she noticed was Nate's black eye.

"Ouch. What happened?" Mona asked.

"We found the girl from four," Noel explained.

Alison's heart dropped. A canon had gone off in the woods not long before.

"What did you do?" she demanded, surprising even herself with the heated response.

"She got away," Nate sulked, but not before the other two raised eyebrows at her.

"What do you care?" Mona asked, looking at her pointedly.

"I don't," Ali said out of instinct, but she knew it wasn't true and that no one would believe her, anyway. "She's a decent person, okay? There's other people for you to hunt. Leave her out of this."

"I'll tell you why you care," Noel said, stepping uncomfortably close to Ali. "You soak up the attention you get from your little girl crush. You can't stand being around us because we don't worship you like she does. Alison DiLaurentis always needs someone to use."

Alison shoved Noel back.

"Did I hit a nerve?" he asked.

This time she tackled him. Grabbing his shoulders, she yanked his body up and shoved him back against the ground, not caring if he got hurt. The nasty part of her that she wished to go away was sneaking up on her again, provoked by Noel's comments.

"Let me tell you why you care if I'm here or not. You're scared of me. You're _threatened_ by me, because you know I've always been just a little better than you. You know that if I'm not under your control, I'm against you, and I'll have no problem taking you down," Alison jeered, her voice hot with anger boiling to the surface.

Noel pushed Ali off and struck her flush in the jaw. She fought back, kicking and scratching at the boy until Mona and Nate pulled her away.

There was a fire in Alison's bones; a feral need to put Noel in his place. The careers' arms kept her restrained, and it wasn't until she'd taken enough breaths for her blood to cool that she considered how badly the fight could've ended if there were weapons in the mix.

Even the clueless Capitol viewers had to see the dozens of red flags in this alliance. It was time for Alison to go.


	8. Victim to my instincts

**A/N: I'm really sorry I wasn't able to update earlier this week! I've just gotten into the swing of my school semester and there isn't much time to type during the week. I'll be sure to update on weekends, maybe sooner if I have time. Reviews help as motivation. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed thus far :) Anyway, there are lots of emison moments this time. Those who wanted to see badass Emily should stick around. The next chapter will be mostly her POV.**

* * *

The bags were packed already, so full to the brim that the zippers nearly broke when Ali tried to close them. There was so much more she wanted to take. It seemed unfair that the three careers sleeping on the ground should be entitled to all the supplies overflowing from the Cornucopia. In a perfect scenario, she would be able to steal all of it, leaving the others defenseless, but what Ali envisioned as perfect was often a far cry from reality.

Sometimes Alison found that she could write a new reality by reshaping the situation. What good would a pile of supplies be with no one left to use them? Noel couldn't hunt her if he was dead.

_Dead. _The word left a bad taste in her mouth, but this was her own life at risk.

Alison looked at Noel. He was snoring lightly and blades of grass were pressed against his cheek. Mona and Nate were sleeping nearby, their own bodies curled onto the ground. It had taken forever for the blonde to be sure all of them were asleep. Really asleep; not the closed-eyes, attentive-ears fake slumber she herself had pulled when it was Noel's turn to stand guard.

The meadow was beautiful at daybreak. Edges of grass were glistening gold from the first rays of sun. Surely there were worse places to die than here, curled up in this expanse of green, wildflowers scattered all around. There was something almost poetic to it. And, anyway, an arrow to the heart would end Noel's life so quickly he wouldn't feel a thing.

Once he was out of the way, she would have to shoot Nate and Mona. She would practically be doing them a favor by sparing them from a slow, agonizing death.

Three shots, that's what it would take to set her free. One second of bravery to fire the first arrow.

Alison pulled her backpack over her shoulders and grabbed her bow. Sunlight glinted off of the arrow as she nocked it and drew it back, aiming at Noel's sleeping figure. One second. She only needed to let go.

Her hands were shaking now. All she could see was the boy from the bloodbath. A boy she thought too insignificant to even notice during training. It was his fault for attacking her. His violent hands almost choked her to death, and she had every right to kill him, but there was something terrible about watching his eyes glaze over.

He had a family somewhere out there. Someone had loved him, and they watched Alison kill him without a moment of hesitation.

That face was plastered in her thoughts, haunting her. That was death. Nothing poetic or peaceful about it.

Alison steadied the arrow and pointed it at Noel's chest. She tried to convince herself he was something less than human.

He had it coming. Honestly, he did. Alison could feel a bruise on her jaw from where he struck her during the fight he provoked. If she didn't kill him, he would kill her.

And why should he deserve to win, anyway? He was full of bravado without an ounce of charisma. His family wasn't rich like her own, but they were better off than most the people in the district. They didn't need the money. He had an older brother, but Eric Kahn wasn't broken like Jason DiLaurentis. Jason needed Ali more than Noel's brother needed him.

Alison drew the arrow back, preparing to fire, but her hands started quivering again. She couldn't hold her aim. She couldn't shoot him.

It would be nice to say the reason she refrained from murder was because of an infallible moral compass, but that wasn't the truth. No, she wanted Noel dead. It was fear keeping her from going through with it. The terrifying possibility of having three more lifeless faces weighing on her conscience. If she killed the careers, it would haunt her for the rest of her days.

She couldn't deal with that. It was much easier to kill without having time to think it over.

Alison let out a deep breath. Relenting, she attached the bow to her shoulder sling. With one last look at the careers, she turned around and crossed the meadow with soft, quiet steps. Frustration boiled inside her. Just underneath it was the fear that one of her enemies would wake up before she could escape.

Luckily, they didn't.

Alison was only slightly relieved when she entered the protective covering of the woods. She couldn't run very far until she found Emily. Though she made sure to enter the forest in the same place Nate and Noel exited hours before, after they supposedly ran into the girl from four, there was no way to guarantee she was still nearby.

The more time that passed, the more hopeless it seemed. The ground was thick with undergrowth and there were so many branches and vines that it was hard to see ten feet ahead. Ali was on edge already, and every part of her ached to take off running until she could get as far away from Noel and the careers as the arena would allow. Were they awake now, looking for her?

It may have been the result of two nearly sleepless nights, or maybe it was the panic that was quickly expanding from her racing heart. Either way, Alison felt dizzy and sick, and she was worried she might faint. It felt like death was just around the corner, waiting to grab her.

Her steps got heavier, more desperate, until she was breaking out into a run. She didn't stop until she heard something crunch under her feet. With her heart still pounding, she bent down to pick up the crushed pieces of plastic.

It was a pair of glasses. The same kind of night vision glasses Noel and Nate wore when they left for their demented human-hunting trip. Nate wasn't wearing his when he returned with a black eye.

They had to have fallen off in a struggle. She remembered now how he complained about Emily getting away. At the time, all that had registered in Ali's mind was that the girl she had come to care for was safe.

Emily must have been here, running from Nate at some point during the night. She could be nearby still, and she could be injured.

"Emily?" Alison called out as loud as she dared. "Emily, are you here?"

Looking at the ground again, she noticed some of the shrubs looked like they had been trampled over. New growths of light green were sprouting over the damaged plants, but a trail was visible. There were foot-sized indents in dirt still soft and muddy from last night's rain.

Ali followed the trail until it became indiscernible. "Emily?" she called out again, willing her voice to be louder even though she still felt faint with fear.

There was a rattling of leaves from somewhere not too far away. Alison froze. She couldn't be sure if it was Emily who had heard her.

There was only one way to find out.

"Emily! Is that you?" She pushed past a bunch of moss-covered saplings, making her way toward the sound.

"Ali! Yeah, hold on!"

It felt so good to hear those words. Ali couldn't see the other girl yet, but that voice was enough to make her sigh in relief.

The sound of rustling leaves drew closer until it was right behind her.

"You made it." The girl's words came out in a breathless whisper.

Ali spun around to see Emily standing a few short steps away. The girl's wide eyes contained exhaustion, but she was otherwise unharmed. Still healthy and beautiful. Her breathing was visibly deep, and Ali felt her own breath hitch.

"I promised I would," she responded, stepping forward automatically until Emily's arms wrapped around her in a snug embrace.

The tan-skinned girl buried her face into Alison's shoulder. Emily was hugging her so tightly Ali wasn't sure she would ever let go, and maybe she was okay with that. She wrapped her own arms around the girl's back and leaned her head against the brunette's.

For just a second, she was able to close her eyes and allow herself to feel safe.

Even when they pulled apart, the distance between them was small. Emily's hands were still holding Alison's arms, and she was looking at her with an expression so unlike the shifty stares she'd gotten from Noel and the others.

"What is it?" Ali asked because it didn't look like the other girl planned on speaking.

"I'm just really glad you're here," Emily admitted. Her eyes dropped to the ground bashfully. "The silence was starting to drive me crazy. I totally understand why people lose their minds in solitary confinement," she added.

"You don't have to worry about that now," Alison assured her. She shrugged her backpack off of one shoulder. "Look, I even brought supplies, just like I said."

Emily looked back up. "Do you have water?" she asked.

"Of course," Alison responded. She pulled out a canteen and handed it to the other girl, who began gulping it almost immediately.

"Not too fast," Ali warned her gently. "It has to last until we find a water source. Speaking of that, we need to leave now."

Emily furrowed her eyebrows. "Is Noel after you?"

"Probably. If he isn't yet, he will be soon."

She frowned when she realized it wouldn't be an issue at all if she'd been strong enough to go through with the shot earlier. The panic was edging its way through her again, so she grabbed Emily's hand with a sense of urgency. "Come on, it's not safe here."

She guided Emily forward with her, and the other girl almost stumbled. Once Emily got her footing, she staggered forward. Alison noticed she was limping, badly.

"Is your foot okay?" Ali asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just twisted my ankle a little bit. It's no big deal."

Alison watched Emily force herself forward. She was able to walk almost normally, but there a grimace on her face. It had to hurt. Ali was torn between wanting to let her rest and wanting both of them to run to a safer place as soon as possible.

"I know it's a bigger deal than you're making it out to be, and I don't want to sound like a bitch, but we can't afford to move slowly right now. Do you think you can walk on it for a few hours?" she asked the brunette.

Emily nodded. She trudged deeper into the woods to prove her point. Alison quickly caught up and walked on side of her, feeling a little bad for forcing her to ignore her injury.

"Maybe I can try to wrap it when we're able to sit down. Compression is supposed to help, I think," she said.

Emily looked over at her and offered her a small smile. "Thanks, but I'll be fine. Are you alright? I noticed you have a few bruises…"

"Oh, that," Alison said, running her fingers along her jaw. It was sore to touch, and her neck ached from being grabbed during the bloodbath, but bruises weren't a problem. They would fade. "I can't even see them. Why, does it look bad?"

"No. I mean, they don't look great or anything, but you don't look bad," Emily explained, and Alison smiled at how flustered she sounded.

"Thanks. Normally, I would be inclined to agree with you on the second part, but I doubt I look my best right now. It sucks that we have to be on camera."

"You look fine. Trust me," Emily said.

"Okay. I guess I'll have to take your word for it."

They weren't moving as quickly as Alison wanted, but the panic was lighter than it had been before. It was nice to have someone to talk to. To not feel alone. The two of them spent most of the day trudging through forest that seemed to grow denser with each passing hour.

It probably wasn't quite dusk, but the surroundings had already become gloomy when they heard the promising sound of running water.

"That has to be a river," Emily decided. The two of them exchanged a look and smiled. For hours they'd searched for a water source. Sure enough, the sound led them to a picturesque creek.

Alison watched as Emily knelt near the edge of the water. "Do you want to set up camp?" she asked. "It's getting dark, anyway."

"Yeah, traveling at night isn't the best idea. I learned that the hard way," the brunette agreed. She took out her canteen and filled it with water. "I guess we need to make a fire to boil this."

"Nope. I've got it covered," Ali said. She sat down next to the girl and shifted through her backpack. Once she found the iodine capsule, she added drops to the water in the canteen. Afterwards, she pulled out some bread for them to share. Emily added some fruit she'd gotten from the bloodbath, saying they needed to eat it before it spoiled.

Their little picnic was quiet. Not unpleasantly so, but Alison felt like there was something she should say. She eyed her bracelet around Emily's wrist and briefly wondered if Spencer noticed Ali had given it away. Spencer was smart. She probably knew it was part of a plan.

"So the bracelet back-up plan didn't work out as well as I hoped," Ali said to break the silence.

"It's no problem. Things worked out anyway," Emily said. She started to unhook it from her wrist. "Here, you probably want this back."

Alison shook her head. "No. I want you to keep it. It means more that way."

Em looked confused, but she left it on her wrist and traced her fingers over the letters. It was quiet again. When Emily looked over at her, she became aware of how close they were sitting. There was that feeling from the rooftop again, a stillness.

Somehow Ali knew they were both wondering if whatever had started between them was about to continue. And looking into those dark eyes, how could Ali not have wanted it to?

Then she thought of the cameras. The entire country taking part in a private moment and speculating on her sexuality. Alison hadn't even began to let herself mull over the subject.

So when the eye contact looked to be leading to something, when Emily was just beginning to lean in, Alison turned away to face the creek. She hoped it was too dark to see the warmth she felt in her face. Emily was visible in the side of her vision, looking down, embarrassed.

Alison ran a hand through her hair, undoing the already loose ponytail. "Em, I…" she started, and then, too nervous to continue, instead told her, "You should wrap your ankle."

"It's fine, Alison," Emily said, her words taking on a double meaning.

The blonde wasn't sure what to say, so she sorted through her bag again and found a long bandage. "I'll wrap it. Take off your shoe."

"You should save that for a real injury," Emily said.

"I don't care. Just let me wrap it, okay?"

Emily watched her cautiously. They both knew there was more going on here than taking care of a little ankle sprain. She shifted and removed her shoe, deciding to comply. "Ali, you need to relax. It's okay," she told her in a firm voice.

_It's not_, Alison thought. But she nodded at her words as she wrapped the swollen ankle.

"You said you haven't slept in two days. You should rest," Emily said.

"Yeah," Alison agreed with another lifeless nod. She didn't move when Emily stood up on her newly-wrapped foot and scanned the area for a place to sleep.

"What about here?" Em asked, motioning to a spot where the ground rose up in a ledge about their height. They'd jumped down from it when they found the creek. It didn't look like the best place to sleep until Emily leaned down and brushed away some shrubs, revealing an indentation in the side that resembled a small cave.

Cave might have been the wrong word. The hole was only deep enough for a couple of people to huddle inside. Luckily, that was all they needed.

"What even is this?" Alison asked after she made her way over and leaned into the entrance. "Some kind of animal home?"

Emily shrugged. "Sometimes arenas have hidden places for tributes to use."

Alison shuddered against the chill in the air. The temperature was dropping, just as it had the night before. Emily had to be freezing without her jacket.

Emily was waiting for her to go in first, so Ali pushed her bag and bow to the inside wall. The bow was difficult to fit, and it ended up poking her side when she wedged herself in. Em joined her soon after. The two of them together took up almost the entire space. With difficulty, Ali took off her jacket and draped it over both of them.

Though it was very dark in the hiding spot, it was impossible to not be aware of Emily's proximity. Whichever way Ali turned, Emily's body was pressed against hers.

Somehow they got in a position where Ali was facing the wall, her nose brushing against her bag, and Emily's front was practically pressed against her back. She could feel every breath the girl took and knew her heart was beating a mile a minute. Their legs were touching because there was no room to stretch them, and honestly, every part of it was driving her crazy. Her body flushed with warmth despite the cold air.

"Are you asleep?" Ali whispered after some time had passed. She could hear a drizzle beginning outside.

"Nope," Emily whispered back.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Ali said softly.

She kept thinking back to what Noel told her, that she always needed someone to use. The worst part was she _had _used people before. Not this time. More than ever, she wanted to cleanse herself of the past.

"Why? You didn't do anything."

"Exactly," Alison sighed. "I thought about the cameras and- I don't know."

She tried to think of a way to better express what she was feeling. Emily stopped her.

"You don't have to explain. I understand," she said. She wrapped an arm over Alison's body and held her close. "Is this okay?" she asked.

Alison closed her eyes in contentment. "More than okay."

Neither girl said another word. Alison's eyes grew heavy and, for the first time in nights, she was able to drift off to sleep.

* * *

If this was the last morning she would ever live to see, Emily would still consider herself lucky. How could she miss the sun when it was lying in her arms?

Alison's golden hair had never looked so messy. Even when not carefully polished, she had an effortless beauty to her. That beauty only grew when she was able to let her guard down. Walls were always up around her heart. Emily doubted she would be able to knock them all down, but she could see Alison opening up, offering pieces of herself.

Here they were, lying together in a tiny nook in the middle of the Hunger Games, surrounded by the fear of impending death, and all Emily could think was that she loved this girl. This wasn't a crush anymore.

She loved her. She loved her. She loved her.

She was so stupidly head over heels in love with Alison DiLaurentis that she couldn't allow herself to think of the future. Everything she needed was right here.

Alison shifted and her eyes fluttered open. She looked around, confused and disoriented, Emily guessed, just as she'd felt every morning since the reaping. But then she seemed to understand and she turned to look at Emily, the tiny smile on her lips causing the brunette's heart to flutter.

"Hey," Ali greeted her in a sleepy voice.

"Hey," Emily smiled back.

The blonde tried to turn over and her expression became one of utter confusion. "Where did all these leaves come from?" she asked, and it was only then that Emily realized there were plants growing around them. A few vines looped around their legs and waists, tangling them together even more than they already were.

Emily sat up tugged at the vines. They were sturdy and surprisingly hard to break. "That's weird."

When they crawled out of their spot, Emily noticed the forest looked different as well. Yesterday, she'd thought there were more saplings and bushes than there were the day before, but now there was no doubt that the forest was thickening. Grass now reached her calves and half of the bushes had bloomed overnight. Several pathways were blocked by waterfalls of curly gray moss flowing from tree branches.

"There must be something in the rain that makes the plants grow like crazy," Alison commented.

"At least it looks harmless enough," Emily said, though she had a sinking feeling this was only the beginning of what the Gamemakers had in store.

"We're in the Hunger Games. Nothing is harmless." As usual, she was blunt in expressing her thoughts.

"So what now?"

"For now, we hunt. Refill our water. We'll set out again if things get any weirder," Alison said.

With that said, the blonde retrieved her bow and set out to find breakfast while Emily refilled the canteens at the creek. It didn't take long, so she busied herself with making a fire.

Ali came back with two fat squirrels. After they were cooked, Emily re-examined the metal square she'd picked up in the bloodbath.

"What's that?" Ali asked. She sat cross-legged on the ground next to her.

"I'm not sure, actually. I think it's supposed to fit somewhere."

Alison tilted her head as she looked at it. "It looks like a broken part to something else. I can't imagine what you would use it for."

Emily shrugged. "I don't know, but the Gamemakers had to put it there for a reason, right? Maybe there are other parts we need to make it work."

"Maybe," Alison said, "But I'd rather stay here than go look for pieces. I feel like this is the closest we can get to being alone in the arena."

"An escape from it all," Emily said, her thoughts heading in a different direction. "Speaking of that, you never told me what your escape is. I told you mine was swimming."

"Oh. Well it's more of a place, really. In district two."

"I used to live there," Emily reminded her.

Alison nodded. "Right. Um, it's hard to describe, but there's this little place between the market and a factory. The buildings were built at a weird angle so no one ever thinks to go between them. I go there to be alone sometimes."

Emily had no trouble picturing exactly what Alison described, mainly due to the fact that she herself had been there countless times. It was her escape for the three years she lived in the district, and it was the very location she'd described to a distraught young girl running away from home.

"That's the place," Emily said, eyes growing wide. Alison may have repressed the memory of what happened that day, including meeting Emily, but something she said had gotten through to the blonde.

"What do you mean? You've been there?"

"I'm the one who told you about it. It was my escape and I wanted to give you a place to run to."

Emily watched as Alison blinked, trying to make sense of the information. "I wish I could remember," she said after a minute had passed. "It feels like everything's coming full circle now. We shared the same hiding spot for years without realizing it, and now we're in the Games together, finding hiding spots to sleep in. Isn't that crazy?"

"I wonder how things would have turned out if we knew each other back then," Emily mused.

"Some things would be the same," Alison said, giving her very deliberate eye contact. It was the kind of look that made Emily feel like her heart was going to drop into her stomach.

The feeling intensified as Ali leaned over and her words became a soft murmur in Emily's ear. "I say screw the cameras. You have no idea how much I wanted to do this last night."

Placing a finger under Emily's chin, Ali guided her until brown eyes met blue. Emily didn't hesitate to connect their lips. It was what she'd ached for every minute since they reunited. The cameras didn't matter.

Emily typically didn't consider herself to be skilled in many things besides swimming, but loving this girl came to her so easily. Her lips somehow knew how to move despite her lack of experience and her hands knew just how to caress Ali's face and smooth her hair. She'd never felt so alive. It was doubtful she would ever get over the giddy excitement that came from Alison wanting to kiss her back.

Each time their lips parted, they would join back, without the hesitation of the kiss from the rooftop. The kisses now were certain, hungry, maybe even a little desperate considering their surroundings. A shiver went up Emily's spine as Alison's hands snaked down her back, stopping at the waist.

She was left breathless when Alison gently pushed her back until she was lying against tall grass. Emily wasn't sure how far Alison was planning to take this, but she couldn't even formulate a thought with the blonde's lips capturing her own again before moving to her jaw.

Ali's eyes met her own, searching for a reaction, and Emily felt dangerously close to letting three words slip out that might scare the girl away. She didn't have the chance to utter a single word before they were interrupted by a loud boom not far in the distance.

Nothing could kill a moment quite like a death canon. Both of them sat up, suddenly aware of the surroundings.

"Shit," Alison said, covering her face with her hands. Emily could see her beginning to unravel with panic.

"Ali, come on," Emily said, still out of breath from what they'd been doing a minute before. She stood up and tried to guide the girl to the hole they'd slept in. It was a good enough hiding spot.

"What if it's Noel? We shouldn't have stayed here," Alison said. Her voice was quiet but she was speaking quickly. "He's going to kill us. He's close by already."

"Shhh. He won't find us," Emily tried to comfort her. They squeezed back into the hole. Emily wrapped her arms around the slightly shorter girl and felt her tremble.

Minutes dragged by. It was silent, but there was no way to know if it was safe.

"My bow," Ali whispered. "I left my bow out there."

"It can wait," Emily said, feeling herself begin to shake at the thought of either of them going out in the open.

Alison, stubborn as ever, shook her head in disagreement. "I'll just be a second," she said.

Emily found herself holding her breath. Alison was taking way too long, but there was no scream. No reason to be worried, right? She peeked her head out anyway to see only a blank expanse of overgrown forest.

Where was she?

Without thinking, Emily pulled herself out the hiding spot. Protective instincts were kicking in. Finding Alison was all that mattered right now. If these were the last hours of her life, Emily refused to spend them giving up on the girl she loved.


	9. One second to change it all

**A/N: Almost to 100 reviews! Thank y'all so much, and I hope you stick around for the rest of the story :) There is violence in this chapter. It's not too graphic in my opinion, but like to warn people before just in case. **

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Everything changed so fast. The blink of an eye was enough time for unexpected bliss to shift to terror. A few seconds, a shaky final breath, could turn a human into a corpse. All it took was a minute for Emily to lose track of Alison. Now every second counted.

Emily raced through the woods, her steps as frantic as her heartbeat. A dagger was secure in her right hand. It was sharp enough to slice through moss and vines blocking her path, but Emily had a feeling she would need it for more than just plants.

She skidded to a stop when she heard a male voice calling from the opposite direction.

"If you wanted to shoot me, you would've done it when you had the chance."

The next voice was unmistakable.

"I'm not a coward, Noel. A coward would have killed you in your sleep. Wouldn't you rather a fair fight?"

Emily turned on her heel, wincing a little at the pressure on her still-injured ankle, and darted in the direction of the voices.

"You never fight fair," Noel said.

She was getting close. She could hear Alison scoff in response to Noel's words.

"Either way, you're not getting out of here alive. This ends now," Alison retorted.

Noel's voice was smug when he responded. "Are you sure about that?"

Emily burst through a line of trees just in time to see Nate run out from another direction and tackle Alison from behind, pushing her to the ground and making her lose grip of her bow and arrow.

Emily was scarcely aware of her motions as she ran to them. Time moved impossibly fast. One moment, she was watching and the next, she was slamming into Nate with all the force she had. She hit him hard enough to knock the wind out of her lungs and was left gasping for air as they both tumbled from the impact.

Another moment passed. Enough to change everything once again. The dagger slipped out of Emily's hand at some point during the collision and Nate ended up on top of her, pinning her against the ground.

When he looked down at her, Emily noticed one eye was a deep purple. There was no time to flinch before he drew his arm back and struck her face. The movement was so sudden and unexpected that Emily didn't feel a thing aside from shock.

"An eye for an eye," he said, his voice low and seething with anger.

"Stop!" Alison cried out, and it was then that Emily turned her gaze to the blonde struggling in Noel's grasp. A knife was pointed at her neck.

"Oh, you don't like watching that?" Noel asked between deep breaths. "Hit her again," he told Nate.

This time Emily cringed before Nate's hand hit flesh. Now she felt the dull beginnings of pain radiating from her eye. It turned into sharp throb every few seconds.

The brunette grunted and pushed her knee against Nate's abdomen, blocking him from leaning forward any further. He would have to stretch to hit her again, and even if he did, there wouldn't be as much force behind his arm. She wriggled around to escape from his grasp, but it was hopeless. She was pinned in a terrible position and Ali was at knife point and nothing was okay anymore.

Just then, when she was about five seconds from giving up, a glint of metal caught her eye. The dagger was laying in the grass only a few feet from Nate's side. He didn't even see it.

She still had a chance.

Alison's blue eyes were focused on her. Emily met her gaze and tried to nod to the dagger. The blonde didn't understand at first, but then her eyes trailed to the ground and a crease formed on her forehead. Her expression shifted from one of fear and worry to a contemplative look. She was thinking, but it was difficult for the two of them to communicate well right now. Emily needed to come up with her own plan.

If she could push Nate off of her, even just for a second, she would grab the dagger and stab him. The thought didn't even faze her.

But what about Alison? How could Emily save her? Running up to Noel with a dagger would give him way too much time to bury the knife in Ali's neck. She needed a long-distance weapon to take Noel down.

She needed the bow and arrow.

In all the chaos, Emily had completely forgotten that Alison's weapon had been thrown to the side, but there it was. When she turned her head, she could just see it out of the corner of her eye.

"You ready to watch her die?" Noel asked. Emily realized he was addressing her as he dragged the knife under Ali's collarbone. He put just enough pressure to draw a thin line of blood.

"They're all going to hate you. Just wait," Alison snapped.

"What are you talking about?" Noel questioned.

Alison clenched her jaw. "Our whole district. They're never going to forgive you if you kill me."

A long, wheezy laugh escaped from Noel's lips. "You're really clueless, aren't you? You think people actually like you."

"If they hate me, they must hate you, too. You're too self-absorbed to realize we have all the same negative qualities. Don't act like you're any better than I am."

"And you, Nate," she continued. "All you are is Noel's bodyguard. It's pathetic. Are you even capable of making decisions on your own, or do you not have a working brain at all?"

"You take that back," Nate cut in. "I make my own decisions. No one controls me!" His grip on Emily's wrists loosened slightly as his rage focused on the other girl.

"If you insist. The irony is killing me," Ali said. There was fear in her eyes underneath the fake bravado, but her secretive smile made Emily positive this was part of the plan. She was playing off of Nate's anger issues, and it was working.

"Don't listen to her. She's messing with you. That's what she does," Noel warned his ally.

Nate didn't listen. Before Noel could even finish speaking, he was firing incoherent insults and threats at Alison. He let go of one of Emily's wrists to point at the blonde, who only smirked in response. It gave Emily the chance she needed.

She'd watched peacekeepers go through self-defense training. Her own father was an expert at it. Now it was her turn to apply what she'd observed. It would have to be quick.

In one rapid motion, Emily used her free hand to pull Nate down by the collar of his shirt and head-butt the bridge of his nose. As he recoiled, it provided her the room she needed to draw her leg back and kick him in the groin.

Nate's body curled in an involuntary pain reaction and expletives slipped from his mouth. Emily gasped to catch her breath as she rolled out from under him, reaching for the silver glint in the grass.

Just as she grabbed the weapon, Nate rolled back on top of her. He hated being crossed. He would try to kill her right here on the spot, with or without Noel's permission. But he couldn't hurt her. Not now. The surge of strength Emily felt as she pushed herself to the limit during training was nothing compared to the power that boiled within her in this moment.

Before he could even lay a finger on her, Emily turned over and buried the dagger into the side of his neck, pushing down until only the handle was visible.

Nate's hands flew to the spot. A dreadful gasping sound escaped his lips, and when he opened his mouth to cough, blood spilled out. His eyes met Emily's for a brief second. Even when he was moments from death, he still had the nerve to reach out and try to grab her. Emily shoved him to the ground and stood up on shaky legs.

He was fading out fast. In a minute he would be dead. Emily wasn't sure what she felt, or if she felt anything at all. Everything was in a dream state. No pain, physical or emotional, could touch her.

She almost didn't hear the scream that came next, but when she looked over at Alison, she realized her emotions weren't untouchable, at least not completely. It felt like everything in the world stopped when she saw the long, deep gash just above the girl's chest.

It wasn't a lethal injury, but it would be if Ali lost enough blood. She was bleeding a lot already.

Noel twisted the knife around in the wound, torturing her for the fun of it. Alison clenched her teeth, but she couldn't hold back a whimper of pain.

Anger.

That's what Emily felt now. Pure, fiery anger. She practically lunged for Alison's bow and scooped up an arrow from the ground. In seconds, it was loaded and pointed at Noel. Never before had she been so hell-bent on wanting to see someone suffer.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Noel told her. "Unless you want this knife to go into her neck. She'll end up just like Nate."

That made Emily hesitate. She lowered the arrow slightly but did not move it away from its human target.

"Don't you dare," she said, her voice cold and biting.

Noel held her gaze for a while. It almost looked as if he was challenging her. The need to fire the arrow burned inside of her, but she was all too aware of the knife pressing against the skin of Alison's neck.

"You look terrified," Noel commented, and it reminded Emily of what Meredith said to her the first morning in the Capitol. "Honestly, I didn't think you had it in you to kill Nate. Thanks for that, by the way. That's one less person standing in my way. Funny that you're actually helping me."

"I would never help you," Emily said, bringing the arrow back up. "And don't be so surprised. I got a _nine_ in training. I'm far from weak, Noel, so maybe it's time you stop underestimating me. Especially since I have the power to kill you right now."

"Daddy must be so proud," Noel said, but there was panic in his expression now.

"Shut up," Emily commanded, pulling the arrow into a firing position just to make him squirm. She wished that his comment didn't bother her. Now she couldn't help but wonder in the back of her mind what her father was thinking right now. He was honorable. He always defended people.

Ali whimpered again as Noel pricked her with the knife and Emily remembered that she was defending someone, too.

"I have someone to fight for, and I'm not about to give up," Emily said.

"Her?" Noel asked, poking at Ali's neck again. "I hate to break it to you, but she's not worth it. She uses people to get what she wants. Did you notice she's being awfully quiet right now? She wants you to protect her, and it's a lot easier to manipulate you into saving her when she's playing the damsel in distress."

Now Ali spoke up. Her voice was wavering, but she still managed to keep a hard edge to it when addressing Noel. "You don't know anything about me or how I feel. You're the one trying to manipulate her right now!"

Emily swallowed hard as she considered what was said. "Ali's right. You don't know anything about her."

Aiming at Noel's chest was too risky. Too close to hitting Ali. She had to aim for the head, right between his eyes. Or at an eye. The thought of that made her squeamish. Less sure than before, she repositioned the arrow. Her hands started shaking. She was going through with this.

"And you do?" Noel asked, sounding nervous. He could sense the switch in her confidence. He knew the arrow wasn't just an empty threat. His knife drew another line of blood at the base of Ali's neck, not quite at the vein. Then he drew the knife up, preparing to bury it into her jugular. His threat wasn't empty, either.

When the knife started coming down toward Alison's neck, anger and panic flared up in Emily again. Before she could even register what she'd done, the arrow went flying until it collided with Noel's skull. She didn't have a chance to breathe before he fell to the ground.

Dead.

Alison collapsed along with him.

Emily dropped the bow and ran to her. Her eyes were open, still aware and _alive_. Emily never knew relief could hurt, but it stabbed so painfully at her chest that she could literally feel it. She bent forward, only then realizing that she was crying.

Ali pulled herself up and leaned against Emily's body. "It's all okay," she assured her, and Emily couldn't for the life of her piece together what she meant by that. Nothing was okay.

"No it's not. You're not okay." She noticed the blonde was still bleeding badly. Noel wasn't able to cause much damage to her neck. The blood leaking from there was trivial compared to the gash under her collarbone. It soaked through her shirt, turning the color from pale green to bright red. Some of it got on Emily when she leaned against her.

The loss of blood had to be the reason she collapsed. It wasn't stopping.

"God, Ali," Emily cried. She took Alison's stained jacket off her shoulders and pressed it into the wound.

Alison seemed dazed. Her eyes were heavy and looked like they would close any minute. Those tired eyes were watching Emily as she tried to tend to the cut.

"Your eye is purple," she noted.

"That doesn't matter right now," Emily told her. She'd forgotten about it herself. It was only after it was pointed out that she felt it throb.

Ali half-nodded, though Emily wasn't sure if she was really registering anything. She buried her head into the swimmer's shoulder and Emily used her other hand to comb through golden hair.

"Look at that," Alison said, her voice muffled. Emily glanced over her shoulder, but all she saw was Noel's body. The scene was grotesque and it made Emily's chest heave. She felt close to vomiting.

Then she looked beyond the mess she'd caused. Two silver parachutes were floating down from the sky. They swept through the air, steering themselves until they landed right at Emily's feet.

The girl knelt down while keeping hold of her disoriented friend. Ali stayed in her spot against Em's shoulder as the brunette tore open the packages. The first parachute held a small container of medical salve. The other contained bandages.

Emily quietly thanked Jason DiLaurentis for the supplies. Careful not to move Alison too much, Emily took away the soaked jacket and rubbed ointment onto the punctured skin. Ali crinkled her nose before letting out a deep sigh.

It had some effect on her already. This was Capitol medicine, after all. People said it worked like magic. She repeated the motion and put some medicine along the shallow slice in the girl's neck.

"You were right, Ali. It's gonna be okay," she whispered as she wrapped gauze around the wounds. At least they would be okay for now. Emily wasn't in the right mental state to think about the future. There had been enough trauma for one day. Enough for a lifetime, actually.

She killed two people. The true realization hadn't sunk in yet. They needed to leave the area so the hovercraft could come remove the bodies.

Emily stood back up, trying to pull Alison along with her, but the other girl didn't look ready to walk. With some difficulty, she was able to lift the blonde and carry her. It would have been much easier to hold her shoulders and pull her along the ground considering they were almost the same size. But that would leave a chance of causing her pain or unraveling her bandages.

It was with that in mind that Emily carried the girl as far into the woods as possible. She rested her against a tree and went back for the bow. Leaving her alone for only a few minutes was enough to make Emily nervous.

Once she was back, she pulled Alison's head into her lap and ran her fingers through her hair. The other girl wasn't awake anymore, but she was breathing, and that was all that mattered.

Emily stared blankly into the unruly forest. These were the first quiet moments since this morning, when everything was different. It was the first chance she had to actually think. She quickly realized that wasn't what she wanted. Quiet let unwanted thoughts sink in.

_She killed two people_.

A dagger to Nate's neck. An arrow to Noel's head. Both of them dead.

There was that familiar tickle in her nose that was always present in the moments before she broke down in tears. She leaned her head back against the bark of the tree and let the sobs take over. There wasn't one point in her life where she'd felt half as helpless as she did now. If only she could be back home, safe in the warm sand of the beach.

She wished none of this had ever happened. That the reaping was a bad dream. The only good that came out of any of the past couple of weeks was the girl laying in her lap, and Emily would end up losing her, too. Ali would probably go running into trouble again, just like she did today.

If she hadn't done that, none of this would've happened. But she looked so pitiful, so vulnerable, that Emily wasn't sure yet whether she could be mad at her.

All she was sure of was that she was completely miserable.

* * *

The first thing Alison was aware of upon awakening was a strong, antiseptic smell. It was coming from somewhere near her, maybe even on her. She rolled over slightly, feeling a sharp pain in her neck and just above her chest. Her head was being supported by something. Not something, someone. Emily. She was laying on Emily's lap.

Everything came back to her when she looked up at the other girl. Emily looked down after feeling Alison move, but it only lasted a second before she stared back out at the trees in silence. One of her eyes was puffy from crying and the other was swollen shut.

Guilt gnawed at Alison's stomach. She dragged Emily into this. It was her fault the girl had to kill, had to lose part of herself.

"Emily, are you okay?" she asked softly.

There was a long pause in which the only sound was the buzzing of locusts in the trees. "I killed them," Emily said finally, her voice barely more than a whimper. She squeezed her good eye shut and a tear dripped down her cheek.

Ali sat up and rubbed the tear away with her thumb. She was feeling lightheaded already, but for once, she wasn't her own first priority.

"That doesn't make you a bad person," she said. Emily scoffed and shook her head, disagreeing, so Ali added, "I mean it. You're the most selfless person I know. You saved my life. Even before I knew you, you were always saving me."

The prickly, vulnerable feeling was back, but this time, Ali didn't fight it. "You're a good person, Emily Fields," she repeated, pressing a kiss to the girl's cheek.

Emily sniffled. "Why did you have to do that?" she asked. She still refused to look at Alison.

"Do what?"

"Go running to find Noel. Why did put yourself in danger like that? We would've been fine."

Ali pressed her lips together. She could feel herself closing up already; wanting to distance herself from the topic at hand. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. Could you just look at me, please?"

"That's not a very good answer," Emily said, ignoring Ali's request.

"Noel was never going to give up. What was I supposed to do?" Alison moved away from the brunette, suddenly feeling a burst of misplaced anger. A defense mechanism, probably. "Don't get mad at me either, cause I was trying to protect you. I didn't tell you follow me and I definitely didn't force you to kill them."

Emily looked at her now, directly in the eyes. "I can't believe you just said that to me."

The words came out so wrong. Alison wished she could erase them completely. "That's not… I didn't mean that," she admitted.

Humiliated, Ali stood up and looked for a way to escape the situation. The nauseating pressure on her head told her to lie down. She ignored it.

"What are you doing?" Emily asked.

"I'm going wash off in the creek. You can do whatever you want," Ali said, looking down at the dried blood stains on her skin and clothes.

She took uneven steps into a forest distorted by dizziness. Emily's eyes were on her- she could feel it- but she refrained from looking back. Every so often, she grabbed at trees to steady herself until she made it to the edge of the creek.

All the movement had caused fresh drops of blood to dot her gauze wrap. She sat down, too dizzy to walk any further, and pulled her knees to her chest. Everything in the forest was getting on her nerves. The locusts were too loud and tiny roots stabbed at her feet.

It was all annoying, but Ali was mostly annoyed with herself. If it weren't for Emily saving her from the careers and tending to her wounds, she would be dead. Maybe she should be dead. In those minutes after Noel was taken down, when she was losing blood and barely clinging to consciousness, she felt like succumbing to darkness wouldn't be so bad. It would have meant peace and freedom from pain and fear.

But if she died, what was the point of any of this? Every lie she'd ever told and secret she'd ever kept would be gone forever. Like none of it ever even mattered.

Jason said she would have to choose the better option: life after the Hunger Games or death in the arena. She wasn't so sure anymore. Tears welled up in her eyes and she tried her best to fight them back. No crying. Appearance is everything.

She couldn't stop them this time. Alison laid her head on her knees, hiding her face from the cameras. There was a shuffling of leaves behind her. She didn't have to look up to know it was Em.

It was quiet. She wished Emily would say something already. It seemed like she was waiting for something, maybe for Alison to acknowledge her, so the blonde wiped tears from her eyes and turned to face her ally.

Emily looked surprised when she noticed Ali was crying, but she didn't comment.

"You must think I'm so bipolar," Ali said. "One minute I'm telling you you're a good person and the next I'm lashing out at you."

"I think we're both stressed," Emily said, moving a little closer. "I thought I would feel better if I blamed someone else for what happened, but I don't. It doesn't change anything."

Neither of them spoke. Emily leaned down and reached for Ali's arm. Using the water from the creek, she started wiping away the blood. Alison sat in silence and tried to stop sniffling. The gesture was small but so sweet it actually made her want to cry more.

"Thank you," she said quietly, "for everything."

Emily looked at her and gave her a small, sad smile. "No problem." She turned her attention back to Ali's arm before she spoke again. "If there's anything I realized today, it's that you never know how much time you have left. I don't want to spend it being upset. When we woke up in our hiding spot and you were laying right against me…I was actually really happy, despite everything."

Ali watched as a light blush appeared against the brunette's cheeks. "Sorry if that sounds weird, but I was. I was happy, and that's how I want it to be for however long we have left," Emily finished.

"I think we can make that happen," Ali said, trying to sound teasing even though she was still fighting tears.

"Okay, then it's settled," Emily played along.

"So, I was just thinking…" Ali began, trailing off from nervousness. She took a breath and started again. "I don't want to die and have everything I've ever felt or known die along with me. So there's something I want to tell you."

Emily waited patiently for her to continue.

"I'm not really used to putting others before myself. I guess that's the reason I ran off to find Noel; I wasn't thinking about how it would affect you. But I…I care for you, and I want to put you first. I'm still learning how to do that," she said.

"I understand. I care for you, too," Emily said in response. She hesitated before adding, "I have for a long time."

Ali felt her heart leap even though it wasn't exactly new information. "Oh yeah? For how long?" she asked, prompting another blush from Emily.

"If you want me to tell you, you have to answer some questions, too. I'm not letting you dodge everything like you did during training."

The thought of opening up completely scared Alison, but she could hardly refuse after telling Emily how she didn't want to die with secrets locked inside her.

"Okay, Em. Challenge accepted."


	10. Think of a plan or die trying

**A/N: This is a little late but I hope the length makes it worthwhile. It took me forever to write and it was kind of an emotional roller coaster. I can split it into two chapters later if that's easier for y'all to read, but I'm in a hurry at the moment. Just let me know. This is a REALLY BIG chapter that determines the rest of the story. There will probably be two or three chapters left. Anyway, please please review because I just spent like eight hours writing this and reviews make me so happy.**

* * *

"What's your favorite memory?" Emily asked.

It wasn't the question Alison expected to hear after agreeing to try to open up, but it was better, safer. Nothing about it made her feel like her throat was closing up or gave her the urge to lie. She could be honest without being afraid.

"Definitely the party the district threw for my brother, after he won. Were you there for that?" she asked the brunette. Emily told her during training that she moved to district two when she was twelve. It would've been the same year.

Emily shook her head. "No, that must have been a few months before my dad was relocated. Tell me more about it. I want to know what made it such a good day."

"My family had just moved into our house in Victor's Village. Early that morning, a styling crew from the Capitol knocked on our door. They gave me dresses and did my hair and makeup. It was, like, a twelve-year-old's dream. And then, that night, I got to make an entrance walking down this big staircase in the Justice Building."

"Everyone was looking at me. They all clapped for me," Ali continued. She smiled fondly at the memory. "I'd never experienced anything like that before. I was suddenly _important, _you know? Everyone wanted to be my friend. They would do anything just to be seen talking to me."

"That's how it was when I moved there," Emily said, studying her intently. "You always had a crowd of people around you."

"Yeah," Ali nodded, but there was a twinge of sadness in her chest. Having admirers didn't amount to much when she was reaped. They didn't care enough to say goodbye and she doubted anyone from home would've lost any sleep if Noel had killed her.

She bit her lip, wondering if she should voice those feelings to Emily. Those were the kinds of thoughts she desperately needed to get off her chest, even if they were embarrassing.

"Everything okay?" Emily asked in a soft voice. Of course she would notice something was off. She always did.

A lifetime of shoving feelings away made Ali inclined to deny that there was anything bothering her. She could easily change the subject, but what good would that do? Killing the conversation would leave their thoughts open to the arena. Emily would have no distraction from thinking about Noel and Nate.

She looked at the blood stains on Emily's clothes and at the deep purple bruise surrounding her eye. Nothing Alison could say could put either of them through more pain than they'd already endured.

"Not really," Alison answered finally, her voice close to cracking. She leaned back until she was lying on her back against the tall, scratchy grass. Looking at the tops of trees was easier than looking the other girl in the eye. "Let's just say my family and friends aren't like yours, Em."

"I don't know what you mean by that," Emily said, her voice slow and cautious. "But I know they love you, Ali. There's no way-"

"If they cared, they would've said goodbye," Ali interrupted. The sudden weight on her chest ached more than her actual wounds.

"What?" Emily asked. Ali didn't have to look over to her to picture her expression.

"They couldn't be bothered to show up after the reaping," Alison explained. The words were flowing fast now. "So I guess my mom and dad each decided separately that they had better things to do than say goodbye to their daughter, because they sure as hell can't be within ten feet of each other long enough to make a decision together. And I guess I never had friends, either. Just a group of fake bitches who wanted to have sleepovers in a mansion."

Emily seemed to be at a complete loss for what to say. She wouldn't have had a chance to get a word in, anyway, because once Ali started ranting, she couldn't stop, not even to catch her breath.

"The thing is, I don't even miss any of them. We were never close. Not really. It just pisses me off that I was waiting there alone, expecting hordes of people to show up, and the one person who did was Spencer Hastings. Spencer freaking Hastings, who I completely shut out for the past five years showed up to give me a bracelet I left at her house when I was twelve. She came and my parents didn't! How am I supposed to believe they care about me?"

Her shoulders slumped after the last words were out. Saying it out loud had taken all her energy. She was angry with her parents; she could feel heat in her face and her hands were clenched, but now she felt something else. Sadness, maybe resignation. Exhaustion.

"I'm sorry they weren't there for you when you needed them," Emily said. "That's incredibly selfish of them. If your parents are having problems, maybe they were trying to avoid seeing each other. If that's the case, it's their problem, not yours."

"I can't believe they would be that immature," she added, sounding disgusted.

"Maybe you're right," Alison said doubtfully. The words were more for Emily's benefit than her own. "Everyone thinks my family is so perfect. My mom's pretty good at keeping up appearances to hide the fact that we're the dictionary definition of dysfunction junction."

"Has it always been like that?" Emily asked. She still sounded upset. It never failed to surprise Ali how worked up the brunette could get about her personal problems. She shouldn't care, but she did.

"It has been for about five years. I think you can do the math."

For a minute, it was completely quiet. "You're not alone, though, Ali," Emily said. "I'm not just talking about me being here. You said Spencer visited you. Is this the bracelet she gave you?" Emily asked, motioning to her wrist.

"Yeah. It's yours now," Ali answered.

"What I'm saying is, if Spencer kept that all those years, she still cares about you. She wouldn't have come if she didn't. And you have your brother. You two seemed to be getting along before the interviews."

Alison considered her words. She sat up to face Emily. The motion caused a sting in her neck, underneath the bandages Emily had wrapped her wounds in. She held a hand over the spot as she responded to the girl.

"Yeah, Jason's alright, I guess. He changed a lot after his Games. I held that against him for a long time, but I think I understand him now."

"He's looking out for you," Emily said, eyeing Alison's bandages. "He came through just in time. I was so scared you were going to bleed out," she added quietly. Her expression became clouded over.

It was the same haunted look she wore when Ali woke up on her lap. She was here physically, but she was mentally far away, reliving what happened. Once her lip started trembling, Alison leaned over and interlocked their fingers.

She rubbed her thumb along the top of Emily's hand. "Hey, it's okay. We're here now. So, what about that story you promised me? Have I fulfilled my end of the deal?"

Emily's eyes flickered to hers. "I'd say you're off the hook for the rest of the night."

"Ugh, does that mean I have to answer more questions tomorrow?" Ali asked in mock disappointment. "Like I said before, I'm only agreeing to this if you tell me your story. I wanna know just how long you've cared about me," she continued, her mouth twitching up into a small smile as she repeated Emily's words from earlier.

"I, um, a long time," Emily said, stumbling over words she'd already said. Ali nudged her side. "Okay, fine," she said. "It's kind of corny so promise you won't laugh."

"I won't," Ali assured her.

Emily let out a deep sigh. "I guess…I kind of started paying attention to you after the first time I saw you. I'd only moved a few weeks before, so everyone was unfamiliar to me, but you stood out. You were special. It was the way you carried yourself. You were confident and brave and beautiful and wherever you went, you captivated everyone. I was the shy, quiet girl sitting in the corner of the room and you were everything I would never be."

Ali's heart skipped a beat at the description. Emily looked down, letting out a nervous chuckle. Em could be shy at times, but the blonde found it strange that she didn't think the words confident, brave, and beautiful could apply to her as well.

"I didn't realize I had feelings for you at the time. My mom was always asking me about boys, so I thought eventually I would like one," Emily said, "But I never did. And looking back, I have no idea how it took so long for me to realize my feelings because it was beyond obvious. I'm actually embarrassed by how obvious it was."

"How so?" Ali asked. She gave Em's hand a squeeze.

"I always used to ride my bike in Victor's Village. I told my parents it was because the roads were paved there, but obviously that wasn't the real reason. I remember one time I got home and my mom said she needed to talk to me. I almost had a heart attack because I thought she knew. Turns out she just wanted me to do the dishes. That's not even the most embarrassing example, either."

"Tell me." Alison moved so Emily was forced to face her. The story was actually adorable, and was making the mess of unpleasant emotions inside of her ebb away, leaving a warm, fuzzy feeling in its place.

"Don't laugh," Emily warned her.

"I'm not."

"Okay…" Emily began reluctantly. "Well, I was trying to get your attention during class one time, so I thought it would be a great idea to drop a pencil by your desk. Except my desk was way in the corner of the classroom and yours was in the middle, so I kind of had to toss it. It, um, it hit a kid. People definitely noticed I threw it."

Unexpected laughter bubbled up in her throat. Before she knew it, she was doubled over, trying to muffle giggles as Emily glared at her. Something about the mental image of younger Emily throwing a pencil across the room in hopes of getting her attention was too much for Alison to handle.

"You said you wouldn't laugh!" Emily complained.

"Sorry," Alison managed to say. She only started laughing more once she saw the brunette's sour expression. "You're so freaking cute."

"It's n-not cute," Emily blushed. It was amazing how she could even turn visibly pink considering her tan complexion.

"Yes it is. And so are you, especially when you get all flustered," Ali teased.

Emily stumbled over a few more words before burying her face in her hands with another loud sigh.

The blonde smiled, pleased with herself for getting this reaction out of her. Emily may have been embarrassed, but at least she wasn't stressing about what happened with Noel and Nate. She was effectively distracted, and Ali was enjoying it as well.

Emily said something that sounded like a question, but her voice was way too muffled and soft to make out the words. Alison smoothed back her dark hair and leaned closer in. "What was that?"

"Can I ask you one more question?" she asked, her voice barely louder than last time.

Ali nodded and waited.

"When did you start having feelings- I mean…" she trailed off.

"When did I start having feelings for you? Is that what you're asking?"

"Yeah," Emily confirmed. "I was just wondering because I never thought you were into girls. But then you kissed me."

Alison paused to think. She felt no pressure or nervousness when she was teasing Em, but now she was all too conscious of the thudding in her chest.

"You kind of took me by surprise. I'm not sure when it started…maybe the first day of training, when we were in the hallway after lunch," Alison answered, leaving out the part about sneaking into the ballroom on the mystery floor. "It really didn't hit me until we were on the rooftop the night of the interviews."

Emily smiled, probably remembering just what happened that night. Ali stood up, stretching, and extended a hand to the other girl. "It's late. You must be exhausted."

"I could use some rest," Emily said as she took Ali's hand. Once they were both standing up, they looked at each other for a long, quiet moment before Emily leaned in and pressed a kiss to Ali's lips.

Alison let herself smile into the kiss as she placed her hands on Emily's waist. "Oh and Em?" she whispered after they parted. "You're a lot more than shy and quiet. You were brave enough to risk your life for me."

Em drew in a shaky breath and her smile didn't reach her eyes. "Thanks, but that wasn't being brave. That was fear. I wish I could forget it ever happened."

"Sweetie, bravery and fear are sometimes the same thing. Do you want to talk about it?" Ali asked, even though she wasn't sure if she was capable of comforting her if she did accept the offer.

Emily shook her head. Her eyes were trained to the ground as she pulled herself away from Alison. "I'm actually really tired. I just want to sleep."

"Okay."

The two of them ended up in a different spot than the one they'd used previously. The forest was so overgrown that they could sleep anywhere and be protected by plants and darkness.

Ali's eyes were open and her mind was awake well into the night. Emily was shaking in her sleep beside her, no doubt being haunted by nightmares. Twice Alison woke her up to save her from the monsters that stalked her dreams.

Maybe it was wrong to call two dead boys monsters. The dead are supposed to be innocent victims and killers are supposed to be monsters, but the girl whimpering in her sleep, wracked by guilt, was far from monstrous.

The boy Alison killed in the bloodbath was slowly slipping from her memory. It was a familiar process, and for once she was grateful for it. First it all becomes fuzzy. She couldn't remember exactly how his eyes looked or the color of his hair. But she remembered it hurt to watch him die.

Ali hoped neither of them would have to kill again. She hoped both of them could somehow get away from this place. Both of those scenarios were pipe dreams. What was it Spencer used to say? Hope breeds eternal misery.

She also used to say there was a solution to any problem once you find the right angle to work from.

It was an impossible task, but Alison had to do something. She would think of a plan or she would die trying.

* * *

It was odd how time moved in the arena. Every day seemed to drag on with no sense of hours or minutes. Time moved slowly, but eventually total darkness would fall and rain would follow. Nights shifted into days and then back into nights.

Emily had a hard time keeping track of it all. Trying to place everything that had happened in a timeline was like squeezing an eternity into a few short days. The time marker she always went back to was the day Noel and Nate died.

It had been five days. In that time, more tributes had fallen. She and Ali calculated that there were only five left, including the two of them. Every cannon brought more tension to the air. They had to split up before the final fight. There was no question about that, but they hadn't even discussed it. Both of them were afraid to bring it up.

They stuck together even now as they trekked to another part of the forest. The general area they claimed before was now completely uninhabitable. The final straw was the sudden appearance of dripping sap earlier this morning.

Another drop hit Emily's arm and she winced, trying to ignore the burning sting. It wasn't ordinary sap; that was for sure. Blisters lined her arms already from where the sap touched her skin. Beside her, Alison was using the blood-stained, tattered remains of her jacket as a makeshift umbrella.

"It got you again?" the blonde asked.

"It was just a small drop that time, but we need to move faster," Emily responded. The tiny drop was enough to turn her skin red.

Not enough time had passed to know the long-term effects of the burning sap. They could only hope it didn't contain poison or cause some incurable infection. The two girls looked at each other and quickened their pace.

"We should go to the Cornucopia," Alison announced. The words were unexpected and caused Emily to stop in her tracks.

"What? Why?"

"Because we need food," Alison explained. "I'm not taking any chances hunting these weird animals that have been popping up everywhere. I'm pretty sure they're mutts. Those eyes were not natural."

Emily couldn't deny that the animals they'd seen lately were strange. The birds watching them yesterday were almost eerily calm. They reminded Emily of bombs that could be set off with the slightest touch.

But that didn't justify running out into the open.

"Isn't Mona still there? If she's not, someone else is by now. It's not safe," Emily reasoned.

"I'm not saying we should camp out there or anything. Just go steal a few things. Mona wouldn't stay there alone knowing she's outnumbered."

Emily was unconvinced. "Maybe we should just wait for another parachute. We've gotten a lot already."

"The money has to run out eventually," Ali said, suddenly sounding impatient.

Another cannon blast echoed from far in the distance. One less tribute. This was the final four. From what they'd seen on TV, they both knew it was nothing to celebrate. The finale could come at any hour now.

Usually, it was the last three remaining tributes who battled it out, but there were several occasions where the final fight involved four people.

She met Alison's eyes and saw they were filled with distress. Emily was sure her own expression mirrored the emotion. "What do we do?" Emily asked, her voice low with fear.

"We…" Alison tried to say. She stopped and Emily could see her swallow hard before she spun around, facing the endless stretch of woods once again. "We keep walking. Come on."

Her voice was strong and her movements were precise, confident, but Emily didn't believe tor a second that she wasn't shaken on the inside.

Alison was stomping ahead of her. Her movements straddled the thin line between composure and desperation.

"I see sunlight coming through ahead," Ali said, still not looking back at Emily, who had no choice but to follow.

It wasn't long before Emily could see the sunlight, too. It peeked out in rays that shone between branches, soaking trees in a gorgeous golden color. The streams of light led them to a small clearing overflowing with white flowers that grew in bundles.

Emily stared in awe at the quaint scene. She could only assume Alison was doing the same.

"It's beautiful," Emily said, stepping forward until Alison blocked her by throwing an arm in front of her.

"Stop! Don't touch anything," she said. She was still staring out at the flowers, her eyebrows knit in concentration. "That looks like war hemlock."

The name was unfamiliar to Emily, but she took a step back regardless. The word "war" carried bad connotations. "War hemlock?" she echoed.

"It was used in the rebellion. All you need to know is that it's poisonous," Alison explain. Her voice sounded oddly detached.

"Does it grow in district two?" the brunette asked as she retreated further away.

"Not much of it. A little grew by my old house and there was an outbreak one year in the working field…" Ali trailed off. She looked like she wanted to say something else and changed her mind just as her mouth was opening. "It's deadly," she said instead.

There was something very off about the way Alison was acting. Over the past few days, she'd managed to open up, but now it felt like she was taking steps backwards. It was everything: her body language, the way her eyes shifted around nervously, how her words were like icebergs, with all the important details hidden under the surface. Almost like she woke up and decided she couldn't trust Emily anymore.

After all they'd been through, did she really think Emily would turn on her now?

Alison was still staring at the hemlock. Emily could almost see the gears spinning in her head, but she had no idea what the girl was thinking.

"Alison, what's going on?" Emily asked, crossing her arms.

"What are you talking about?" Ali asked. She raised an eyebrow at Emily as if she honestly had no idea how much tension there was between them.

"You're acting weird," Emily said.

Alison stared at her in response. "How am I supposed to be acting in this situation, Emily? I didn't even do anything."

"No, but I feel like you're about to do something drastic. You're being distant."

"I should be a lot more distant," Alison argued. The words weren't completely unexpected, but that didn't stop the sting. "We're in the final four. What are you going to do when it's just the two of us? Are you going to protect yourself?"

Emily didn't know how to answer her question. If it came down to the two of them, Emily wouldn't hurt Alison. She loved her. She couldn't do it.

"I didn't think so," Alison said when Emily didn't respond. "One of us has to die. That's why _this_," she said, motioning between the two of them, "can't last any longer. You need to leave, Emily."

In that moment, it felt like the wind was knocked out of her. There was a physical pain in her chest and her legs were weak. What Alison said was true. It made sense, and Emily knew she was probably being completely irrational for having this reaction, but it hurt. It hurt and she couldn't quell the pain.

She realized this was it. This was having the only thing left she cared about pulled out from under her, and she didn't how to face the rest alone.

"Ali," she said, nearly choking on the name. There had to be something she could say. Some word had to be able to change her mind, even if it couldn't change the situation.

"I don't want to hurt you, either," Alison said. "That's why you need to leave, _now._"

Emily's legs quivered just like they did when her name was called at the reaping. She had another decision to make: stay frozen in her spot, terrified and heartbroken, or suck it up and walk away.

She'd come too far since that day to stand still. As far as goodbyes went, this one couldn't be much worse. With one final look at the girl standing across from her, Emily took a deep breath and turned away. She forced herself not to glance back as she left.

If she looked back, she might change her mind. There was no winning either way.

* * *

Alison pressed her palms to her temple as she paced around trees. She kept reaching mental roadblocks in her plans. Now she was alone, panicked and overwhelmed.

The image of Emily walking away burned in her brain. She never meant to cause the girl any pain, but she had. It was written across her face.

Alison reminded herself it was necessary. She couldn't share her thoughts with Emily right now. Not with the cameras letting all of Panem listen in. She needed to be alone to think of how she was going to pull this off.

It had been a few hours since the brunette left, and the plan was still as rudimentary as it was before.

Alison walked back to the patches of war hemlock. She'd told Emily it was deadly, which was true, at least in most cases. But not always. She and Spencer overheard a peculiar story about the plant when they were young. It was what fueled their fascination with the plants that grew in between their houses.

There was a man in district two who came in contact with the flower one summer. The story was he and his daughter picked the flowers to make a bouquet for his wife's birthday. They both dropped dead before they could even get home.

Then something strange happened. Nearly an hour later, as they were being dragged to the district morgue, the man came back to life. Spencer insisted he was never really dead; the poison was simply a paralytic in small doses.

Regardless of what really happened, the story spread like wildfire through the mouths of district two children. They whispered about zombies and played a game called "dead man rising".

It turned out the story was true. Spencer did some investigating which led to her and Alison spying on a middle-aged man in a wheelchair. He was never quite the same after the incident, they learned. His heart had been damaged and his movements were sluggish, but he was alive. His heart and breathing had stopped and he was still alive.

All because of the war hemlock.

But faking her own death didn't make for a good plan. There were too many loose ends. She might not wake up. Even if she did, she might be physically impaired. She might be thrown back into the arena for someone to finish her off. Emily might not survive fighting against Mona and the boy from seven.

Ali hadn't even considered that. Killing Noel and Nate all but destroyed Emily. Even if she didn't talk about it, Alison could tell. She shouldn't have to fight Mona, who was violent and sneaky and killed someone in the bloodbath by slamming their head against the Cornucopia.

Alison's blood ran cold. She couldn't let Emily fend for herself against Mona.

New plan. She needed a new plan. Defend Emily. And then what?

She looked again at the seemingly delicate white flowers.

Cries of birds pierced through the air, and then there were one, two, ten, fifty of them flying past trees, not far above Alison's head. There was a weird sound in the distance, deeper in the woods.

If the birds were running, she should too.

The sky darkened almost instantly, and that's when Ali realized the finale was starting. No time left for plans.

A cannon went off and Alison started shaking. There were only three options for whose death it signaled. She looked around helplessly. She had to run. She had to go now and kill Mona if she wasn't already dead.

The flowers were the only plan she'd half-formulated. In one motion, Alison uprooted a small handful of war hemlock and stuffed it into her boot against the fabric of her sock.

She followed the birds as quickly as she could manage, running over thick forest growth. They were headed to the meadow. Halfway there, she started feeling dizzy.

Her breathing and eyelids felt heavy, like she was falling asleep, but her heart was racing faster than it ever had.

But she was almost there; the clearing was just ahead. With a final push, she propelled herself forward only to lose her footing and fall over a tangle of roots. The flowers slipped out of her boot.

The whole word was pushing down on her frantic heart. She was being pushed down- dragged under. Pulled into darkness. Soon she couldn't remember what she'd been doing. Then all of her senses faded out until there was nothing.

* * *

First there were birds. More birds than Emily thought the forest could hold swooped past her, a few hitting her shoulders.

Next there was the startling fast sunset. One moment, Emily could see ahead perfectly fine. The next, shadows covered her surroundings and the familiar chill of night pricked her skin.

Then there was a cannon. Somehow that scared Emily the most.

She could barely breathe as she ran along with the distressed birds. They guided her to the meadow, which was dark and uninviting compared to how it had looked on the first day of the Games. The lake wasn't far away. Against the darkness, it looked like a black hole.

There was movement to her left. Someone running. "Alison?" Emily called out. Her voice was high and desperate.

As the figure grew closer, she saw it wasn't Alison. She was too short and her hair was dark.

Mona.

Another cannon.

Emily couldn't run. She couldn't even move. It wasn't until Mona tackled her that she realized they were the only two left in the Hunger Games. She didn't want to kill her final opponent. She didn't want to even exist anymore, but her body wasn't in tune with her thoughts.

Instincts and adrenaline put her on autopilot. She was struggling against the smaller girl without even being aware of what was happening. Her only weapon was a skinny knife her nearly-empty backpack, but she couldn't reach to retrieve it.

Emily could barely feel it when Mona's blade dug into her side. The scream was there, and so was the blood, but she was completely detached. Mona was talking to her between heavy breaths. She couldn't hear any of it.

With a push, she shoved the small girl off of her for just long enough to take off running. She wasn't sure where she was going until she was diving through water.

Being in the lake wasn't the kind of swimming she was used to. It wasn't calm or peaceful. She was flailing underwater. Her lungs burned and the gash in her side throbbed. Her backpack restricted her movement.

When she broke through the surface of the water and took in a sharp breath of air, water came along with it. There was a splash behind her.

Emily willed herself to remember how to be a swimmer. For a long time, she considered it to be the only thing she was good at. Emily Fields would not die drowning.

Stretching her arms out in front of her, Emily moved herself in position for a front crawl stroke. She wasn't in perfect form, but she was able to kick her legs and keep herself afloat.

She was choking up water by the time she got to the edge of the lake. With trembling hands, she clung to the sides and scanned the lake for Mona. The water was very deep here. If she couldn't swim, this might be over. Emily could barely register half of what was even going on. All she knew was she wanted it to end.

Just when she thought Mona wouldn't resurface, bubbles rose to the surface and she came up, gasping for air. The second she saw Emily, she was paddling in her direction.

Emily scraped at the sides of solid ground. There was no ladder to climb out with. No place to steady her feet except against the dirt wall. Her hand hit something hard and metallic. She ran her palm over it, feeling the hexagonal shape that extruded from the edge of the lake, just inches below the surface of water.

She'd felt that same shape before.

It wasn't easy to shrug her soaked backpack off her shoulders, but it was worth it once she found exactly what she was looking for. In her hand, she held a tiny metal square with a hexagonal indentation. A key, just as she'd suspected.

Mona was gaining on her. Emily slammed the square into place and watched as the whole shape started to glow blue. Along with it came a ticking noise. Emily didn't know what it meant, but she knew she needed to get out of the water.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Emily hoisted herself onto solid ground, groaning when she rolled over on her open wound.

TickTickTickTick.

The sounds were closer together now. It ended without warning, and the whole lake flashed an electric blue color. Emily curled onto the ground, ducking her face into the grass and covering her ears. She didn't want to hear the screams that were coming from the lake. Didn't want to see the electricity shock Mona or watch as she drowned.

It didn't take long for the cannon to come. Emily ignored it. She cried into the ground, thinking only that this wasn't what she wanted. Mona was gone and Alison was gone and she was still here. Why was she still here?

She hardly paid attention as a loud voice came over a speaker.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the victor of this year's Hunger Games: Emily Fields from district four!"

* * *

This had to be death. It was fine at first, when everything was dark and numb and there was nothing to feel.

But now things were different. Alison was trapped.

She could feel her body. Her fingers and toes were heavy weights she wasn't strong enough to move. It was unclear how much time had passed. There was no beginning or ending to any of it, and eventually, Alison became so frustrated that she was convinced this was hell.

If this was hell, though, would she be breathing? Her chest ached as it heaved and there wasn't enough oxygen to fill her lungs, but it was still moving. Inhale, Exhale. A painful rhythm.

Sight didn't come back until after, once she'd accepted that, no, this wasn't death. Death would be better. There were two bodies next to her and she was staring up a plain white ceiling. They were dead. They were the lucky ones.

Some part of Alison's brain knew she had been hoping for this to happen. Whatever ungodly reason that was hadn't come back to her yet. She was still too groggy to remember the specifics.

A few things were coming back to her. This must be a hovercraft. She was in the Hunger Games. There was an arena. There was a girl. A girl with dark hair and tan skin. A girl she cared about.

She remembered crying, running away from a screaming mother. The girl was there, too, but she was younger than she was in the memories of the arena. Her face was a little more round, a little more childlike.

_Alison, I just want to make sure you're okay, _she'd said.

Alison closed her eyes again, focusing to allow more details back. That memory was separate from the Hunger Games, she was sure. From the Games, she remembered screaming during the bloodbath. A boy striking her in the jaw. Flowers and birds. Bandages and blood and bow and arrows. A bracelet.

She remembered being curled up in a tiny space with the girl's arm around her. Emily. That was her name. Emily holding her and kissing her and all the emotions that came along with it. Emily saving her life. Emily walking away from her, pain on her face.

Flowers. The flowers were behind them. _War hemlock._

The name triggered something in her mind. Alison understood why she was here.

* * *

**A/N: I'm going to try to avoid spoiling anything because I know some people read the bottom author's note first. Anyway, I wasn't sure when I started this story what exactly would be the outcome of the arena. With all the pain Emison shippers have been through since July, I'm inclined to give them happiness. I tried to look for a way to resolve the arena plot without it being too contrived. There are hints this would happen as far back as chapter five. Everything is not okay at the moment. Clearly this is a strange situation and a lot needs to be resolved! So stick around and keep reading if you like it :) If not, sorry, but I'm trying my best to craft a good plot.**


	11. Gotta get out of this place

**A/N: I know it's been wayyy too long! I'll spare y'all the reasons why I haven't updated. Just know that it isn't out of the animosity in my heart. I PROMISE I'll finish this story. There's probably one (maybe two) chapter(s) left, plus an epilogue. Please review any ideas you would like me to incorporate into the epilogue. It will be lighter and fluffier than the rest of the story. If you are stumbling upon this story for the first time today, maybe read it from the start since the resolution should come soon :)**

* * *

"You have a visitor."

Emily didn't move. She hadn't so much as twitched since she'd woken up earlier, lying in a bed under layers of satin sheets. Several tubes were connected to her arms. Whatever flowed through them made her drowsy. At first, she'd welcomed the dreamlike feeling it brought. Everything was unclear and she felt completely detached, like she was only a spectator to all that was happening to her.

But the dosage was decreasing by the hour. Her body was healing. She'd first noticed it when the smallest scrapes and blisters on her arms disappeared. With the exception of the gash in her side, her skin was smooth and glowing. The gnawing pain of hunger she'd grown accustomed to in the arena was gone completely. Her thoughts were sharper, too, for better or worse. Mostly worse.

If her thoughts weren't as clear, she might have been able to ignore the nurse informing her of the visitor. She wouldn't feel a sharp twist of pain in her chest when she saw Jason DiLaurentis standing in the doorway, looking so similar to yet so different from the girl she'd lost.

"I'll be back in a few minutes to check your vitals," the nurse said. She left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Emily forced herself to sit up and face the young man standing across the room.

"It's crazy how fast they can put tributes back together, isn't it? On the outside, at least," Jason said. Emily cast her eyes down and nodded. He didn't have to explain for her to understand what he meant. The doctors could remove every imperfection from her skin, make her look presentable, but they could never fix the psychological damage the Games had done.

It had been five years since Jason was in the position she was, and he still wasn't put together. Not even on the outside. He looked ten times worse than he did the night of the interviews. Dark circles framed his bloodshot eyes. By the looks of it, he hadn't slept in weeks.

Grief could do that to a person.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect her," Emily said, surprised when she got the words out without choking over them.

"You did all you could," Jason said with a sigh. He sunk into a chair in the corner of the room and brought his hands to his temple. "Alison was always stubborn. She was never one to let herself be saved."

Emily shook her head. "If I wouldn't have left her, maybe-"

"No," Jason cut off. "It wouldn't have made a difference. Ali already had her mind made up."

Unshed tears filled the brunette's eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

Jason eye's bounced around the room, seeming to search for something hidden in plain white walls. His voice was low and wary. "I could never figure out exactly how my sister's mind worked, but she never did anything without a reason. I keep forgetting that you didn't see everything that happened."

Emily swallowed a lump in her throat and waited silently for him to continue. Before Alison told her they needed to split up, she could almost see the gears spinning in her brain. Her thoughts were full of plans she was unwilling to share.

"After you left, she paced around by those flowers for _hours_. Then when the birds came and everyone was herded to the middle of the arena, she picked a handful of them and took off running. She knew they were poisonous. Everyone is saying that was her way of sacrificing herself, but I'm not so sure."

"What do you think she was planning?" Emily asked, though she couldn't decide whether she even wanted the answer.

"I don't know," Jason said with a shrug. He stared at the wall on the other side of the room. "I thought, maybe she was trying to use the flowers as a weapon to take down the girl from one, but that doesn't make much sense. Like I said, I could never figure her out. Honestly, you seemed to understand her a lot better than I ever did."

"I wouldn't say that," Emily commented, blinking away tears that were in danger of spilling over. "I don't know what she was thinking, either. Ali might be outgoing, but she's actually a really private person," she added, only noticing after the words were out that she was still referring to Alison in the present tense.

Jason's eyes flashed to hers for a few brief seconds. "Yeah, but she trusted you more than she's ever trusted anyone. I saw the way she looked at you, even before the Games started. If she didn't tell you, there was a good reason for it."

Emily stared down at her hands, watching as a teardrop fell on one of them. There had to be a polite way to tell Jason she didn't want to talk about Alison. Talking wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't bring them back in time and stop the cannon from going off.

"I guess," she settled on saying as she fidgeted under the sheets. "I don't know."

The tension in the room was suffocating. The machine beside Emily beeped, signaling a change in either her blood pressure or heart rate.

"Are you okay?" Jason asked, looking at the machine.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's fine," Emily responded. "I just…miss her. A lot. Talking about what happened is stressing me out."

"I get it. Sorry," Jason said as he pulled himself up from his seat. He was halfway out the door when he turned around and added, "I miss her, too. I guess I just wanted answers."

Emily managed a half-hearted nod. "You're like her. She always needed an explanation," she said, but Alison's brother was gone by the time the words were out.

She slumped into her pillow, determined to summon more peaceful thoughts. Soon she would be home in district four. Her family would be ecstatic to see her. After next year, her friends would be safe from the reaping and they could skip rocks at their spot on the beach every year without having to fear that it would be the last time they would all be together.

The beach would be there, waiting for her. She used to love to swim against the waves. It was something she'd missed about home, until the final fight of the Hunger Games. After what had happened to Mona in the lake, Emily wasn't sure she would ever be able to swim again without the memory haunting her.

Life would never be like it was before, no matter how many years would pass. But she had to stay positive. She had to try. Alison would've wanted her to try, right? Especially if what the Capitol was saying was true and she sacrificed her own life to let Emily win.

_If_ that was what happened. No matter how much it hurt to think about, keeping those final hours off her mind would always turn out to be a losing battle. Emily rolled over in her bed, careful not to mess up the medical equipment, and finally let herself get lost in thoughts she'd desperately tried to avoid.

* * *

It took practice. It wasn't pleasant, but Alison was finally able to force her limbs to move. She started by twitching her fingers, then her wrists. Soon she was able to shift her legs.

With her future shrouded in uncertainty, all she could focus on was undoing the damage the war hemlock had caused. Regaining motion was priority number one. Alison couldn't stand not being in control of her own body. She felt about as useless as an infant.

The whole time, she kept her eyes fixated on the ceiling. That was another rule; don't look at the bodies. Once she'd regained consciousness and memories came flooding back, she was able to recognize the boy from seven.

The girl was harder to identify. Something horrific had happened to her, resulting in a drastic change in appearance. Alison's stomach churned the second she first looked at the corpse, but she couldn't tear her eyes away until the girl's small features made her positive it was Mona.

Which meant Emily was still alive. Emily had won. Right now, that knowledge was the only thing giving Alison solace.

That didn't mean she wasn't still worried about the girl. She was worried for Emily just as much as she was worried for her own life. Alison may have cheated her way out of the arena, but the Hunger Games weren't over yet. She still needed to find a way out of this place.

The room she was in was too quiet. It was a different type of quiet than her house, where there was always a soft hum of a background noise, even when it was early in the morning and everyone else was asleep. This was silence, but it was surprisingly loud.

The ringing in her ears had become so familiar that Alison was startled when an actual sound echoed from outside the metallic sliding doors. Footsteps.

The urge to run ripped through her half-paralyzed body. Instinctively, she tried to jump to her feet, only to end up collapsing and hitting her chin against the tile floor. She groaned and rolled over on her side as the doors slid open.

"Oh God!" screamed a voice that could only belong to a teenage boy.

The doors were forced shut before Alison could even look up. The person who had walked in was babbling incoherently on the other side, completely taken off guard by the unexpected surprise. Other footsteps followed. More voices, but the boy's was the loudest.

"OhGodOhGod. She's alive. She was moving, I swear! I know what I saw. It was Alison-"

"That's impossible," another voice interrupted. This one was deeper and gruff. "We don't pick up tributes until the trackers signal their heartbeat has ceased."

Another voice. "I know you're new here, kid, and you've never seen a dead body in person. It's unsettling, but that's all it is. A dead body. It won't jump out and attack you," the man said, chuckling at the idea.

"I wouldn't be scared if I didn't see one roll over when I walked in there! Go see for yourself!"

"I'll be the judge of this," the older-sounding, gruff voice announced.

Alison struggled to pull herself up from the floor. She was sinking into the same mode of panic she'd experienced in the arena. Only this time, each rapid breath and leap of her heart _hurt_.

There wasn't time to run and it was impossible for her to even walk. She did the best she could in the limited time frame by using her arms to drag her body to a nearby wall so that she could prop herself up in a sitting position.

The doors slid open again.

The old man did not scream. His pride was probably too big for that reaction, but shock was written all over his face nonetheless. All it took was one look at her to make his eyes bulge. He took an automatic step back, holding onto the sides of the door for support.

He was speechless. As terrified as Alison was, she was pleased that she was able to rattle him. She may have been weak, but she wasn't completely powerless.

"I take it nothing like this has ever happened before," Alison said, her voice coming out hoarse. She might have smiled for effect if she were able to manage it.

"You've been alive this whole time? How is that possible?" the man asked, mouth still gaping. He blinked his eyes rapidly, probably half-expecting the scene in front of him to disappear. A brown-haired, middle-aged man and the boy appeared behind him in the doorway. Ali could see now that the boy was even younger than she was. Fourteen, tops.

"It looks like someone made a mistake," Alison said. She watched carefully for a response.

"What happens now?" the boy asked. "Are they going to kill her?"

Those words made Alison freeze. The hammering in her chest was almost unbearable. For a moment, she'd thought she could negotiate her way out of this. Now she remembered she was dealing with Capitolites. A bunch of colorful freaks who had no apparent respect for life. If they had a heart, they wouldn't have thrown her into the Games. Why would they care about her life now?

"If the president finds out there was a mistake…" the middle-aged man trailed off.

"No one is going to find out!" the older man insisted.

"Then what happens to me?" Alison cut in. Her voice was weaker now than before. She felt completely unraveled. Her confidence was shattered and the only thing left underneath was fear.

The three only offered her silence in response.

Ali tried to keep herself from slumping. Tears pricked at her eyes. She contemplated whether she should keep a straight face or go for the pity angle by letting herself completely break down. It wasn't an Alison thing to do. Or maybe it was. She wasn't quite sure who she was anymore.

But once the first tear slipped from her eye, she remembered how much she hated looking helpless.

"You can't kill me," she tried to argue, ignoring the tears that slid down her cheek. "The Games are over. I bet the public would rather me alive than to find out that I was killed after the Hunger Games already ended because of a mistake _you_ made." She paused to stop her voice from shaking. "You already screwed up. Going behind the president's back will only dig you deeper in the hole. Cameras are everywhere, you know."

She watched as the men looked to a spot on the ceiling. The camera part had been a bluff, but their reactions indicated it was true.

"She has a point," the boy admitted.

"Galen," the old man said, pointing at the boy, "You stay here and keep an eye on the girl. We're stopping the hovercraft for repairs until we can get this situation sorted out."

"Uh, okay," the boy, Galen, agreed, though he didn't sound particularly happy. Once the two older men exited the room, he stood near the door and watched Alison with cautious eyes.

At first it was funny how terrified he looked, as if Alison could even hurt him in her current condition. But it didn't take long for Ali's amusement to fade back into fear and discomfort. She couldn't question the kid about what would happen to her; he obviously had no answers.

There was one other person she was desperate to hear about.

"Is Emily okay?" Alison asked.

"She's alive. She won," Galen answered.

"I know. That doesn't answer my question." The boy stared at her, showing no signs of comprehension. Alison frowned and rephrased her request. "I want to know how she's doing. You know, her health. Her mental state of mind. Is she okay?"

"Oh, um…I haven't watched the news since this morning. You can check, if you want," he said. He stepped across the room in awkward, sideways motions, making sure to keep his eyes on the blonde at all times. A large monitor dominated the right side of the room. He pressed the tip of his finger to it and the screen flashed to life.

A blue-haired reporter filled the frame. Alison could see the training center in the background. Words scrolled along the bottom of the screen.

_No new developments at this time. The victor is currently undergoing treatment for injuries. Her first post-Games appearance is predicted to occur in three days. Stay tuned for more updates._

Nothing. Nothing about how Emily was doing. Was she even awake yet? Was she lying in bed, scared and shaking, or breathing a sigh of relief that the nightmare was over?

Alison wondered if she crossed Emily's mind. If anything, she was probably mad at her. Their last exchange hadn't been a good one.

As if in tune with her thoughts, the image of the reporter on screen changed to a recap of the exact event. Alison cringed as she watched herself basically tell the other girl to get lost. Guilt swirled in her stomach when she saw how wrecked Emily's expression was as she walked away.

It was strange seeing it played back. Alison couldn't help but be shocked at how awful she looked. The girl on the screen wasn't the reflection she'd seen in the mirror every day for seventeen years. This girl was stick-skinny in an unhealthy way, ribs showing and all. Her blonde hair was tangled and matted. Bruises and cuts and dirt decorated her skin.

She could hardy recognize herself, yet the girl was definitely her. Everything happening on screen was a memory locked inside her brain. After showing the two of them splitting up, the broadcast became some sort of montage of her and Emily, zooming in on every kiss and gentle touch. The reporter constantly added her own commentary, gushing about how unpredictable the romance had been and how tragic the ending was.

It was torture to watch, but Alison couldn't tear her eyes away. She slumped further against the wall and struggled to swallow the lump in her throat.

"That's all that's been on TV for, like, almost two weeks. People are obsessed with you guys," Galen announced. Alison had all but forgotten he was even there.

"You must miss her," he said. When Alison didn't respond, he ran a hand through his hair and added, "I know how you feel. I've been on this hovercraft with my uncle for weeks now. I haven't even gotten to go home and see my girlfriend."

"That's hardly the same situation," Alison snapped. The kid was clueless and she knew he meant well, but she couldn't put up with the idiocy right now. Not when her life was in shambles.

"Sorry," he said quickly, sounding abashed. "Do you…want some food or something? You don't look too good."

"I don't need your help. You people are probably going to kill me, anyway, so what's the point?" Alison said. She let out a bitter laugh that ended up dangerously close to a sob.

"But I want to help. I really doubt they're going to kill you. The captain is pretty strict, but he wouldn't do that. They're going to talk to the government to see what to do."

As much as she didn't want to, Alison felt herself soften the slightest bit at the boy's optimism. He might be ignorant and oblivious, but he still had a hint of childhood innocence left in him. He hadn't been corrupted yet.

"You don't get it, kid. It's the government I'm worried about. They can only have one victor. Everyone else is fine with their television tragedy," she sighed.

"I bet Emily isn't," Galen said. "And anyway, the rest of them are only fine with it now because they think you died in the arena. People were flipping out for hours after your cannon went off. If they knew you were alive, the media would explode. They'd probably riot if someone even suggested letting you die."

Alison considered his words. "They were really that invested in what happened to us?" she questioned.

"Yeah, pretty much. Nothing like that has really happened before. I guess people get tired of the same show every year."

"Interesting," Alison noted. She stared at the footage on screen, deep in thought.

All her life, Alison had been a fan of tragedies. There was something devastatingly beautiful about lost love or a mysterious disappearance. Bad situations made for good, juicy stories. Now she realized tragedies aren't all that enticing when you are in the middle of one.

What she needed wasn't going to be found in the midst of uncertainty and darkness. She needed a ray of hope; someone who could take her by the hand and chase away the fear that everything would be lost in the blink of an eye. Warmth. Security. A sunlit path to lead her home.

For the first time, she understood the allure of a happy ending. Happiness would always be valued over misfortune, just as light would always chase away darkness. That's what she needed: light.

"I need to talk to Emily," Alison said. "She's the only one who can fix this."

"You might be able to talk to her after they consult the president," Galen responded.

"No, I need to talk to her before they do that. Is there a way to contact her? Can't you make calls with that computer thing?"

"Well, I could probably look up the number of the training center hospital, but I'm not supposed to use it…" the boy said, appearing conflicted.

"You have to. The only thing the public will like more than a tragedy is a happy ending, but first they need hope. They have to know I'm not dead, and I want Emily to hear it first," Alison insisted. "Just do it. Please. You're too young for them to seriously punish you."

Galen still looked unconvinced. Alison grimaced at him when as the seconds ticked by. Finally, with a big sigh, he relented. "Okay, I'll help you."

Alison offered him a tiny smile of approval. As the boy fumbled around with codes on the monitor, Ali tried to keep away the nerves that were building up again. She had no idea what to say to Emily. Aside from that, it was getting hard to ignore how sick and lightheaded she felt.

"It's dialing," Galen told her. "The hospital policy blocks video calls, but we'll be able to hear the audio. It will be like talking on speaker phone."

As with most things dealing with Capitol technology, all of the terminology flew over Alison's head. She waited impatiently for a voice to answer. When one did, echoing a quiet "hello, how may I help you?" through the room, Galen was quick to respond.

"Hello, this is…uh…"

"This is Vivian Darkbloom," Alison took over, speaking the first words that came to enunciated the syllables so that the words came out in a Capitol accent. "I'm calling on behalf of the president. I was given orders to speak to the victor."

"Vivian Darkbloom?" the secretary parroted. "I'm not familiar with that name. Could you please verify yourself?"

"You _haven't _heard of my name?" Alison scoffed. "Have you been living under a rock? The fire at Darkbloom Estates was national news." She might have enjoyed playing around with this stranger if she weren't so nervous. Her fate was totally reliant upon her bullshitting skills.

The woman on the other end seemed to buy it. "Oh. Oh, Darkbloom! Yes, that name does sound familiar, now that you mention it," she said to cover her embarrassment. In the Capitol, being behind on the social scene was practically a felony.

"Good, I would hope you've heard of it," Ali continued. "I've assumed my grandfather's position as a political tie with the president, which puts me in charge of communicating with the victor. I would share the details, but unfortunately they are confidential."

"Of course. I understand. I'll connect you in just a moment."

There was shuffling on the other side of the line. "You have a call from Ms. Darkbloom. Let me know when you're done, dear," the secretary told someone. It had to be Emily.

"Hello?" Emily's tentative voice echoed in the room. For a minute, Ali couldn't remember how to speak.

"Ms. Darkbloom?" Emily asked when there was no response. "As in Vivian Darkbloom?" The last words came out in a voice barely above a whisper.

Alison remembered conjuring up the name Vivian Darkbloom when she was in the ballroom with Emily. The memory seemed so distant, but apparently Emily remembered.

"Hello, Em," Ali was finally able to say.

She counted her breaths as she waited for Emily's response. When she did speak, it wasn't what Alison wanted to hear.

"Is this some kind of joke? It's not funny."

"It's not a joke," Alison assured her. "I'm alive but I'm not safe. I need your help."

"That's impossible. You were dead. I-I heard your cannon go off." Emily took it a deep, shaky breath, and Alison knew she was close to tears. "If you are alive, you have to explain because I don't understand."

"Shhh, don't cry," Alison said out of instinct. "I'm not dead, but I think my heart stopped for a couple of minutes in the arena. I grabbed some of those flowers and I lost consciousness. I woke up in a hovercraft. That's where I am now," she sighed. "Look, I'll explain better later, but right now I need you to listen to me."

It was quiet as Emily contemplated the information.

"That's a lot to take in," Emily said, "and I'm not sure why I'm believing this, but I do. I believe you, Alison. I'm listening. Please tell me you're okay."

The blonde paused, debating whether to tell Emily about the weight on her chest and the fact that she could barely move, much less walk or run. She didn't want to worry her further, so she said, "I'm fine, really. But I won't be for much longer if you don't help me. I need the public to know I'm alive. I'm watching the live broadcast and I see a blue-haired reporter right outside the training center. Do you think you can walk there?"

"Yeah, of course. I just need to get these tubes off my arm," Emily said, reminding Alison that she was still in a hospital bed.

"Are you sure you can walk?" Ali asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, it's just… It's fine. Just a little sore. I'm out of bed and getting a robe," Emily told her. "I hope no one sees me. What exit is the reporter by? The ballroom?"

"Yes. The ballroom. You have to take the elevator to the mystery floor. Be careful, Em. There's rough people down there." Alison thought back to the men they had encountered on the first day of training. Those grimy, disgusting creeps would no doubt try to take advantage of Emily if they saw her all alone.

Even with intermittent updates from Emily, the minutes seemed to drag on endlessly. Galen watched Alison with concern as she clenched her eyes shut and leaned her head back against the wall. All she could think about now were the sponsors in the ballroom who spent their money buying victors. If one of them dared lay a hand on Em…

"Everything okay?" Ali asked Emily for what was probably the ninth time since she left the hospital room.

"I'm practically hiding under a table right now," Emily answered. Before the blonde could ask her what she was talking about, she explained, "I'm trying not to be seen. I'm so close, Ali. I just have to cross the last twenty feet in the open."

Almost immediately after, Alison head a sharp increase in noise on the other end of the line. People were shouting. Ali could only assume they were going after Emily. It killed her that she couldn't see what was going on.

She was two seconds from losing it completely when Galen shouted something and pointed to the scene on the television monitor. People were flooding out of the training center. Even the reporter was bewildered as cameramen searched for the source of the outbreak.

After a minute, the cameras settled on a tan-skinned girl, barefoot and wrapped in a white robe. A small phone was held against her ear. It couldn't have been that long since the Games ended, but Emily already looked so different; so much healthier than she had during those last hours in the arena.

A sea of people surrounded her. A few were much too touchy for Alison's liking, but Emily barely flinched when they grabbed at her. She simply brushed them off and kept moving closer to the camera. Closer to the reporter.

"You made it," Ali said, feeling her heart swell. On screen, she saw Emily nod at her words.

Then the reporter was suddenly in her space, bombarding her with questions. "It looks like the victor has made her way out of the building." She shoved the microphone in Em's face. "Emily Fields, we're all wondering what you're doing here. We heard you would be resting for the next few days! Did you get released early? Are the nurses aware that you are out here?"

"I'm out here because I have a very important message to give all of you. I'm on the phone with Alison. She's alive!" Emily told her.

The reporter stuck her bottom lip out in a sympathetic pout as a chuckle swept through part of the audience. They didn't believe her.

"I'm so sorry to tell you this, but Alison died in the arena. Believe me, we all feel the pain of your loss," the reporter babbled.

"No, I mean she's actually alive!" Emily said again. She furrowed her eyebrows and tried to think of a way to make the story more believable. "Ali, what hovercraft are you on? Is there a number?" she asked into the phone.

Alison scanned the room in a hurry. Above the monitor was an engraved number and a set of letters. "H-1685, I think," Ali answered.

Emily repeated the number to the crowd. Some woman snatched the phone out of her hand.

"Is this really Alison DiLaurentis?"

"Yes, it is," Alison said, irritated. "Now stop being a bitch and give the phone back to Emily."

On screen, Emily reached over and grabbed the phone back from out of the woman's hands. The woman started screaming that she'd spoken to Alison and all hell broke loose.

Amidst the chaos, the reporter pulled Emily aside and asked her to explain.

"I don't know how it happened, but somehow there was a mistake. Alison is alive and in the hovercraft. We have to spread the word so someone can save her. Please, get her out of there. Don't let her die. The Games are over. We've been through so much already. Just let us live," Emily said, speaking so fast that her words started slurring together. She stopped to breathe and then looked at the camera again with tear-filled eyes.

"All I ask is that she stays safe. I'm in love with her. I already thought I lost her once. Don't you dare take her away from me again."

The reporter turned to the camera and started talking a mile a minute about the apparent twist of fate. Alison could barely pay attention. One specific part of what Emily said completely captured her attention.

_I'm in love with her_.

Alison knew Emily liked her, and she knew the feeling was mutual, but somehow those words put a new spin on everything. Electricity flashed through her, reaching even her fingertips, and she wanted nothing more than to have her arms around Emily at this moment and to never let go.

Ali had never been in love. She never even knew it was a feeling she'd craved. She didn't understand how it was supposed to work or how she could care about one person so much, but there was something she was suddenly compelled to tell the brunette.

"Emily, are you still there?" she asked.

Even though the brunette was nearly buried in the crowd, Ali could see Emily clutch the phone close to her ear. "Ali?"

"Thank you for doing that. No matter what happens, I want you to know I lo-"

The phone wasn't in Emily's hand anymore. It fell to the ground as a guard grabbed her from behind. Emily struggled against him until another peacekeeper showed up to escort her back to the building. Dozens more white-clad men showed up to put an end to the chaos brewing on the street.

"What are they going to do to her? They can't hurt her, right?" Alison almost screeched at Galen, who only stared at the screen with wide eyes.

An alarm went off, so sudden and piercing that covering her ears offered Alison no relief. The doors slid open once again, and the old man- the captain of the hovercraft- appeared in the doorway.

"What did you do?" he demanded. Ali though he was addressing her until he grabbed the collar of Galen's shirt and shoved him against the wall. Mustering all her strength, Alison pulled herself up to stand up on weak, wobbling legs. She had to do something. Anything.

The middle-aged man burst into the door and beat her to it. "Don't touch my nephew!" he said, shoving the captain away from the boy.

The old man's face turned a bright shade of red. Ignoring the other man, he pointed a finger at Alison. "They're coming for you now! You'd better pray they let you live. Hell, you'd better pray they let me live after the uproar you've caused! You're lucky I was ordered not to touch you!"

There was nothing to say to that. She wanted to scream how it wasn't her fault. None of this was her fault. She was just a girl who'd gotten drawn at the reaping because the Capitol had a sick fascination with siblings of previous victors.

But they wouldn't understand, anyway.

No one was allowed to lay a finger on her. Alison slumped back against the wall and waited until the peacekeepers came and grabbed her by the arms. When they saw she could hardly stand, one threw her over his shoulder in a quick, rough motion. After what Emily had told her about her father, Ali tried not to think of peacekeepers as the enemy. She tried, but she couldn't see them as human right now. They were the Capitol's worker bees.

"Where am I going?" she asked once she'd worked up the nerve to question him.

"You and your girlfriend are going have a little chat with the president. He'll decide what to do with you."

All Alison could do was wait for what would come next.

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**A/N: Hmm, what to say here... I kind of picture the Capitol being like obsessed fans so it's no shock that they shipped the first sign of romance in the Hunger Games. Next will be the meeting and other post-Games events, going home, etc. Then the epilogue. I hope y'all liked this despite the wait.**


	12. What hope feels like

**A/N: Wow, so close to 150 reviews! That's amazing. As I was writing this chapter, I realized it felt kind of like an ending. There's still going to be another one, though, and then the epilogue would be at some point further in the future. That's why I was asking for suggestions and ideas :) Please review if you like it xx. My schedule is pretty packed for the next two weeks but I'll update as soon as I can.**

* * *

Two peacekeepers guided Emily to a chair at the end of a long conference table. They remained standing by her side even after she sat down, prepared to restrain her in case she tried to escape. Luckily for them, Emily wasn't planning on running away. Sure, she had resisted when they first grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her into an unfamiliar car, but that was before they explained to her exactly where she was going.

Aside from the white-clad guards, she was the only one in the conference room. That would change soon. Ali and President Snow would be here any minute.

Her stomach twisted in knots at the thought of talking to the president. Alison's life was still at risk. The Hunger Games were supposed to end with the last cannon in the arena, but here they were, still in the midst of a dangerous game. One decision would decide both of their futures.

Emily knew she had to swallow back her fear and be as persuasive as possible. She hoped what she'd done so far would prove to be enough.

The streets of Panem were abuzz with the news that Alison was alive. No amount of editing or censorship could take back information that had already escaped into the public. They couldn't hurt Alison now, right? With so many people already in the know, killing her would only cause further chaos.

Emily could still barely wrap her head around the situation. Her whole world came crashing down when she heard that cannon in the arena. Since then, she'd spent every moment believing that the golden-haired girl was gone forever; the only place she existed was in somber memories and tortured, 2 AM thoughts.

Then the phone call came. For the thousandth time in the past month, everything changed.

Now she ached to see Alison again, to hold her and kiss her and shield her from danger forever. It was the only thing keeping her glued to the chair. She drummed her fingers against the edge of the table as she waited for the other girl to be escorted in.

Alison did come eventually, but not in the way Emily expected. She was hoisted over the shoulder of a peacekeeper, limp and unmoving. Panic spread through Emily and, for a split second, she feared the girl was already dead.

Even when Alison looked up and met Emily's gaze with exhausted blue eyes, proving she was very much alive, the brunette couldn't stop herself from jumping out of her chair. Peacekeepers pulled her back before she could even take a step.

"What did you do to her?" Emily demanded. The peacekeepers pushed on her shoulders, forcing her back into the chair.

Ali didn't look like that in the arena. She had injuries, yes, and they were still visible on her skin, but now she appeared to be hanging on by a thread. When the guards placed her in a chair on the opposite side of the oblong table, she could hardly sit up without toppling forward. She told Emily over the phone that she was fine. This wasn't fine. Not even close.

"Ali, what did they do?" Emily asked when no one answered her first question.

"They didn't do anything. It's the war hemlock. It's okay, Em," Ali said, averting her eyes. Her voice was weak and hoarse.

Emily stopped herself from voicing her disagreement. There was no point in arguing the definition of "okay" with Alison when all she really wanted to do was console her. She looked to the peacekeepers beside her. "Please let me go see her. At least for a minute."

Neither of them answered. Instead, they snapped to attention at the sound of doors opening.

Emily sat up straighter in her chair but did not dare to speak. The room was now filled with a hushed silence. She couldn't decide if the peacekeepers' sudden quiet was out of respect or fear for the man seating himself at the head of the table.

President Snow's piercing blue eyes observed Emily. The expression was mostly unreadable, though there was trace of emotion buried underneath. Disappointment, maybe? He stared until Emily was fidgeting in her seat, then looked over at Alison, all without saying a word. His eyes lingered on the blonde for much longer, and even with nothing being said, Emily could tell he blamed Ali for the situation they were in.

"Good evening, ladies," he said finally, after enough time had passed for everyone to become unnerved. "It seems we've found ourselves in a predicament. I think it would benefit us all to have an honest and open discussion."

Emily managed a feeble nod. Alison only stared back at him.

"I have some concerns with the current state of the Capitol. As you may have noticed, everything here is systematic and structured. Each year, there is a reaping, training, interviews, a Hunger Games, and a _single_ victor," Snow said. Each word was clearly enunciated.

"So you see, there comes a risk when the system becomes unbalanced. We try to eliminate unpredictability. Unpredictability causes chaos. That's why the two of you are here. Everything was in order until a certain tribute sprung up from the grave, so to speak," he said, casting another glance at Alison.

His tone was not harsh, but his eyes still had a hard edge. The president wasn't a physically imposing man. He was aged and feeble-looking. It was surprising he could still be threatening.

"How was it 'coming back from the dead', Miss DiLaurentis?" he asked Alison, the corners of his full lips turning up into a snakelike smile.

"Tiring," Ali answered, her voice as cold and biting as the president's eyes.

"I would assume so. War hemlock has staggering side effects. It's difficult to move, isn't it? Every motion leaves you winded."

Emily watched as Alison looked down at her lap, a frustrated frown on her lips. Snow's words were more of a statement than a question. He already knew the answer.

For the first time since the meeting commenced, Emily found it in her to speak up. "Will she heal?" she asked, facing the president.

Snow's gaze switched back to her. The smile was still on his lips. "With physical therapy, she would regain motion, but surgery is required for a full recovery. War hemlock attacks the heart. I wouldn't be shocked if she had a few damaged valves."

"Are you going to give me a chance to heal?" Alison asked. She was putting on a brave face, but she looked shaken.

"We'll get to that," Snow told her. "First, I'm curious to find out just how much you know about the history of war hemlock. Unlike your companion, you seemed to be familiar with it in the arena."

"If I was familiar with the effects, do you think I would've done this to myself?" Alison shot back.

"Miss DiLaurentis, we agreed to be honest with each other," Snow reminded her. "We have footage of you telling Miss Fields about the poison."

"I don't know what answer you're trying to get from me," Ali said, keeping her expression stoic. "It's true that I knew about the poison. That's _all _I knew. I was trying to think of a plan, but I didn't expect any of this to happen. I didn't think I would live if I touched it."

Emily watched her carefully. Alison was still in the same tattered, bloodstained clothes she was wearing when she warned her about the flowers. She was speaking in the same guarded, impersonal way. At the time, Emily knew there was something more she was thinking, something stored in her head that she wasn't willing to share. The brunette doubted Alison was being honest with President Snow. Lying was her defense in difficult situations.

But there was no way Emily was going to challenge her. Not when the stakes were so high.

"What was your plan, then?" the president asked next. He smiled slightly again, as if expecting the girl to choke in her response.

"To let Emily win. To die so I wouldn't end up miserable like my brother," Ali told him. Her impassive look faltered, and, whether she intended it or not, it made her look more genuine.

Before Snow could challenge her with a follow-up question, Alison elaborated her story.

"Other people might be fooled, but I've seen firsthand how much Jason struggled. The flowers were a way out. I thought about it for hours and I still couldn't decide if I wanted to go through with it. When I saw the birds, I panicked. My first thought was to find Mona. I couldn't let Emily fight her on her own. I was terrified that something would happen to her."

Ali looked in Emily's direction and her eyes softened. Em still wasn't sure whether to trust her story, but something about her expression made her believe that at least this part was true.

"I grabbed some flowers because I didn't know what else to do," Ali continued. "I wasn't even sure whether to use them against Mona or to take myself out. I stuffed them in my boot, on the outside of my sock, so it wouldn't touch my skin. But I passed out anyway. That's all I remember. What I can say is that almost dying made me realize how much I would rather be alive."

It sounded reasonable. Emily kept her eyes on the girl across the table, searching for any sign of truth. Alison looked back, even as the president spoke again.

"I hope that's convincing enough for all of Panem to believe. It would be very dangerous for even a select few to believe your intentions were to cheat the system."

"That was never my intention," Alison responded sternly, not turning to look back at the political leader. "I already told you, I didn't expect to wake up after I blacked out."

Snow pressed a hand to his temple. "You did say, however, that there was an outbreak of war hemlock in district two. You must know the history."

Alison didn't respond. Emily didn't have a clue what to say, either. The whole conversation was based around a plant she knew next to nothing about. It was unsettling to be in the dark, utterly incapable of helping the situation.

The president cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. "During the rebellion, decades before you were born, war hemlock was genetically engineered by the Capitol. Much of the fighting took place in mountainous regions. Whoever claimed high ground had an immense advantage over those stuck in the valley. That's where the hemlock came in. Fields of seemingly harmless flowers were planted to completely cover the high ground. You can guess what happened when rebels walked through them."

"They never guessed something so delicate and beautiful could be so deadly," he said, unpinning a small white rose from his lapel and dusting his fingers over it. The smell was sickly sweet.

Tension clouded the room until he continued. "After a while, the flowers began to grow on their own in smaller patches, and it became clear that there were…defects. Some who came in contact with the hemlock lived to tell the story. As a war tactic, the plant became useless and obsolete."

"Then why were the flowers in the arena?" Alison asked.

"They shouldn't have been. It was a careless error on the part of a gamemaker. Mistakes on such a large scale are unforgivable. Don't fret, he's already been dealt with. Now give me a reason why you should be allowed to survive," he said, directing the command at the blonde.

"Because people know I'm alive. Killing me won't kill the chaos. It's gonna make it worse," Alison answered without skipping a beat. Snow nodded, but he was unconvinced.

Emily was worried he would disregard their pleas and make a decision to throw them back into the arena. She couldn't let that happen.

"Think about the districts," Emily cut in. That caught Snow's attention.

Emily's heart was pounding, but she tried to sound confident in her words. "A few years ago, district two was on the verge of an uprising. That's why my father transferred my family there. It's calmed down, but my dad said the political climate is still unstable there and in districts eight and eleven. If everything is as fragile as you make it seem, killing Alison is the wrong move to make, especially since she's from two. It's going to cause controversy, and controversy leads to rebellion. Even the Capitol citizens would challenge you hurting her. You don't want to lose your allegiances."

"Districts eight and eleven you say?" he asked, his forehead crinkling. He called for an assistant and whispered something in her ear. Emily could scarcely hear, but it sounded like he was asking for a report on the regions in question.

"This could be a great PR move if you play your cards right," Alison said before the assistant was even out of the room. "Everyone loves a happy ending. Think of all the interviews and sappy TV specials you could make if you just let me and Emily stick together."

The assistant paused by the door and motioned for Snow to follow her. "I'll be back momentarily to give you my decision," he announced. He placed his rose on the table before stepping out the door.

Once he was gone, Alison let out a heavy sigh of relief. "You're a genius," she told Emily.

Emily shrugged and stared down at the table. She wasn't feeling as confident as she would like. "I didn't do anything," she said. She hesitated a moment before adding, "I'm really scared."

"I know. So am I," Alison said, looking down again. "But I think that what you said helped."

They both fell into an uncomfortable silence. The distance between them was half the problem, but the peacekeepers standing nearby wouldn't allow either of them to move.

Emily tensed when Snow walked back in the room.

"Ladies, I think we can arrange a deal, as long as we operate under my conditions."

There was no way to describe or even understand the emotions that went through her at the sound of those words. Any condition he posed could be dealt with. Alison would live. She would be okay.

Em leaned forward and looked across the table at the blonde, whose mouth was hanging open slightly in a mix of shock and relief. She grinned despite herself upon meeting the other girl's eyes.

"Understand that this is an enormous pardon. You are to tell everyone how grateful you are for the Capitol's generosity, and you must sound genuine. Sarcasm will not be tolerated. From this point forward, the two of you are representatives of the Capitol. That requires you to follow through with any job we see fit to give you. For now, that job is to speak well of us in the districts," Snow said. He picked up the white rose from the table and pinned it back to his lapel.

"Also remember that any misstep means all deals are off. You'd be astounded how easy it is to arrange an accident. I won't have to worry about that, right?"

"Of course not," Alison answered, and Emily nodded along with her.

"Very well then," the president concluded with a stiff nod. "Get the girl to the hospital," he told the peacekeepers.

In an instant, they'd scooped up Alison from her chair. "Wait!" Emily called. She jumped out her seat again, unwilling to let Alison disappear again without so much as being able to hug her.

A hand stopped her from behind. Snow's voice was in her ear. When he spoke, his breath smelled of something sharp and metallic. "Time for your first job, Miss Fields. Why don't you inform the public of my honorable decision to spare your friend's life? You are good at spreading news, after all."

Unable to protest, Emily could only nod. She was guided to a different room, deeper into the building, with several cameras and a screen filled with text.

"After I introduce you, you'll read exactly what is written on the teleprompter. Don't change a word."

"Okay," Emily agreed, biting her lip. "What happens after I do this?"

"You go back to the hospital and finish recovering. You'll see Miss DiLaurentis soon enough."

* * *

After spending the better part of a week lying in a hospital bed, it was a nice change of pace to be able to walk around and change into something other than a drab hospital gown. Standing for too long was still tiring, but she was getting stronger every day.

The pain was a separate issue. Every few hours, a nurse would bring Alison morphling tablets and a cup of water. Ali would smile, wait until she was alone, and then proceed to hide the pills inside her pillowcase. She vowed a long time ago to never touch morphling. Dealing with the pain was a better option than becoming addicted. Jason was living proof of that.

Her brother was waiting on the other side of the door to escort her to the interview. Ali took another look at herself in the mirror, noting how much her body had changed in six days. It was almost as if she hadn't been in the Hunger Games at all. The only physical evidence of the arena left on her skin was a faded scar just below her collarbone.

A brighter scar stretched down the center of her chest in a long, vertical line. It was the nasty byproduct of surgery. At least it wouldn't be visible tonight. Her dress had a high neckline that covered her scars and stretched all the way down to her feet. The fabric was a midnight blue, close to black. Specks of white made to look like stars dotted the material, forming dozens of tiny constellations.

It was the night sky in a dress. Not the purple, starless sky of the Capitol, but the familiar wide expanse of space that covered district two each time the sun set.

Somehow it felt like home. It was a reminder that, even though she had no choice but to become a Capitol figurehead, she would always belong to the districts.

Alison ran a hand over her somewhat shorter hair- the styling team did what they could to salvage the matted mess it had become in the arena- and, deciding she was satisfied with how she looked, opened the door to meet Jason.

"Hey, you actually look somewhat decent," her big brother joked.

"Yeah, well you look awful, as usual," Alison said back with a grin. Jason was the only person she'd been allowed to see since arriving at the hospital. The first visit was the definition of awkward; Jason ended up leaving because seeing Alison felt too much like talking to a ghost.

Since then, things had shifted back to normal. Well, not normal. They'd never had a strong sibling bond of any sort. But this was good. She never expected the Hunger Games to bring the two of them together.

Of course, it wasn't the only relationship that had evolved from the Games.

The Capitol insisted on having her reunion with Emily televised live. Ali had seen her during their meeting with the president, but that hardly counted. They weren't allowed to be within ten feet of each other and there was no opportunity to say what really needed to be said.

The last time they were really together was on that last day in the arena. They'd woken up that morning in each other's arms…and then everything had fallen apart from there. Burning sap started falling from trees, forcing them to move. Then came more cannons. And flowers. And a faux-death.

Now Alison was eager to see her. She had a kind of jittery feeling that made it difficult to stand still.

"What do you think it's going to be like when we get home?" Jason asked, taking Alison away from her thoughts. They were getting close to the outdoor auditorium. A little further and they would be backstage.

"I've been thinking about that," Alison said. Truthfully, she'd been worried about facing her parents. She decided to save that conversation for later. "I don't even know where I'll be staying. I do get a separate house in Victor's Village, right?"

"I think so. I wonder if Mom and Dad will go with you."

"Probably only one of them will. You know how they are," Ali muttered. "And what about Emily? I didn't go through all this trouble to never be able to see her. They can't just ship her back to district four and call it a day."

"I don't think you have to worry about that," Jason said as they walked backstage.

Alison cocked her head to the side and looked at him questioningly. "Do you know something I don't?" She considered for a minute what cryptic response could mean. "Are they letting her move back to district two?" she asked, feeling stupid for how hopeful and excited she sounded. Her and Jason might be talking now, but that didn't mean she was ready to have slumber parties and talk about her feelings with him. It was still embarrassing.

"You'll see," he said vaguely. "I have to go. Good luck."

With that, he was gone, leaving Alison backstage. A crew of escorts immediately swooped in on her, tugging at her dress and doing last-minute touch-ups on her hair. Alison was feeling a little weak and sluggish already. The walk here required more physical energy than anything she'd done in days.

She wouldn't have to walk much more; all she has to do was cross the stage. And they let her wear flats, thank God.

A countdown started, just like before the pre-Game interviews. Once the numbers ran out, Alison stepped forward into the blinding white light of the stage.

It took her a while to see a thing. There was a singular moment of panic, a rush of nervousness to her head, because it reminded her of waking up on the hovercraft without her sense of sight. But it didn't take long for shapes to form before her eyes. There was a silhouette of a girl standing not far ahead of her.

Emily was wearing a gorgeous gown that pooled around her feet just as Alison's did, but she was not the night sky; she was a soft and alluring sunrise. The bottom of her dress was light in color. Pastel hues were embedded in it, resembling splashes of color in an early morning sky. As she got closer, Alison could see there were new brown highlights in her dark hair.

She was light, plain and simple. She was hope.

Suddenly, without either of them really realizing it, the distance between them closed. Ali felt lips cover her own and sturdy arms wrapped around her. It reminded her of when they reunited in the arena after she'd escaped from the careers, but this was better. The battle had been won, the worst was behind, and no one was going to take this away from them.

They didn't move from center stage even as Caesar Flickerman started the introductions. It was only when the host's comedic comments started sounding impatient that Emily reached for Ali's hand, interlocking their fingers, and led them to the white loveseat that had been set out for them.

The night was to start out with a two hour long recap of this year's Hunger Games, followed by at least another hour of answering questions. The two of them were under strict orders to act overly grateful to the Capitol. To praise and endorse the president to the point of flattery. Ali didn't love the idea of painting the ones who had thrown her to a fight to the death as heroes, but she would do what she had to in order to survive.

Above all, she needed to make sure no one would suspect or accuse her of cheating her way out the Games. Capitolites were probably too stupid to question it, but district two might remember that war hemlock wasn't always deadly. They might guess that the "zombie man" who lived in the district was the inspiration for her plan.

She tried to keep those thoughts away during the replay of the Games. Watching what was on screen wasn't a much better alternative, so she turned her attention to Emily whenever what was being broadcast was too troubling to watch. The "troubling" aspect ended up applying to the majority of the two hours.

Emily would look over at her, too, and squeeze her hand in support. They watched for a while when it showed the two of them setting up camp together. Then the fight that led up to Noel and Nate's deaths was replayed in full, without any cuts or edits. Emily started trembling beside her.

Ali put a hand on the other girl's cheek, turning her attention away from the screen. Em's eyes were unfocused at first. She was far away, reliving the moment, but she seemed to hear when Ali leaned over and whispered, "You don't have to watch this."

"I wish they'd quit reminding me," Emily whispered back. She leaned her head against Ali's shoulder and stayed there for the rest of the show. Alison saw what she'd missed in the last few hours of the arena, after they'd separated. She watched herself collapse from the hemlock and saw exactly how Mona became charred and disfigured.

After sitting through the movie for so long, the questions flew by in a blur. They talked about what a miracle it when Ali was revealed to be alive and how sweet it was that the first person she thought to call was Emily. Caesar asked what was going through Alison's head when she first saw the white flowers. She lied without hesitation. Faked tears when talking about how thankful she was to be granted a second chance. No sarcasm. She didn't have the nerve to challenge Snow.

They only time she almost slipped up and responded angrily was when Caesar started grilling Emily about Noel and Nate. The way he phrased it made it sound like they weren't only pleasantly surprised, but literally thrilled that she was able to kill them. Their enthusiasm made it so much worse.

Then they had to go and bring up the fact that Alison's parents didn't show up to say goodbye after the reaping. Ali gave short, choppy responses, unwilling to share her thoughts with the audience. She tried to chase the questions from her mind after they were asked.

The night as a whole was long, and exhausting, and painful to sit through, but they made it through. Eventually, the show ended.

Hordes of people cleared out in droves and started heading to a hall where the first of several victory banquets would be held. It was weird that the Capitolites were so eager to celebrate when they'd done absolutely nothing to earn it. They weren't the ones who endured the Games. In their privileged lives, they would never have to experience anything a fraction as horrific as what Ali and Emily had survived.

Ali wasn't in the mood for a banquet. All she wanted was rest and some time alone with the girl beside her.

"Are you going to the party?" Ali asked Emily as they walked off-stage hand-in-hand.

"I thought we had to go?" Emily said, her inflection turning it into a question. "Honestly, I would rather not. Big parties aren't really my thing."

"No one has to know if we skip," Ali said, smirking, and led Emily toward the entrance of the training center.

They walked into the hallway of the first floor, which was surprisingly filled with people passing through.

"I can't believe we made it. It's over," Emily said. Her brown eyes were watching the people as they cleared out the hallway.

"I know," Ali agreed, her eyes also on the people draining out of the building. "Jason said something about there being plans to let us see each other after we go home. I thought they were going to announce it at the interviews, but I guess they're saving that surprise for tomorrow."

"Really?" Emily asked, brown eyes darting over to Alison.

"Yep. You're going to be stuck with me for a long time, Emily Fields."

"You make it sound like it's a problem," the brunette laughed.

They both looked back at the people.

Finally, the last group stepped out the door. The second the hallway was empty, Alison dragged Emily over to a wall and crashed their lips together. Their bodies were flush against each other's and Alison still wanted Emily closer. She shivered as Emily ran a hand along her dress, but her body was warm, warm, warm.

It was the kind of feeling that was impossible not to get lost in. She planted a hand firmly on Emily's hip, feeling the curve of her body as the kisses grew in intensity. Soon the world around them swaying, fading out, and the only thing solid was the girl whose body was pressed impossibly close to hers, as if they had molded into one unit.

Ali surprised herself by moaning lightly into the kisses. They broke apart soon after, all uneven breathing and dazed eyes, and Alison's heart was beating uncomfortably fast, but the sensations flowing through her veins were so amazing that the ache in her chest couldn't bother her.

"Sometimes I still can't believe this is real. I can't believe I know you," Emily said, prompting another flutter in Alison's chest. She locked eyes with Emily as the girl leaned their foreheads together. "I love you," Em whispered before pressing another kiss to Alison's lips, this one soft and innocent.

It was only after the words were out that she seemed to realize she'd said them. "You don't have to say anything back. I just had to tell you. I-" Alison cut her off by placing a finger on her lips.

Ever since she'd almost told Emily the same thing over the phone when she was still on the hovercraft, Ali had been thinking about her feelings. She was worried she didn't actually know what love was. Part of her hoped Emily would say it first so she could explain to Ali exactly what she felt. So Alison could be sure.

Now she didn't need any confirmation. The answer was in the way she felt when she looked at Emily, when she thought about having a future with her. Somewhere along the way, she'd lost the fear of being vulnerable around Emily. She trusted this girl with her life.

"I love you, too," Ali said, her finger tracing patterns on Emily's lips. She felt Emily smile. "You're so beautiful, Em," the blonde added.

She loved seeing the blush that crept across Emily's cheeks. "So are you. You always are."

A few people were strolling through the hallway again. Maybe they had been for a while. Ali didn't notice and, even if she had, she probably wouldn't have cared.

"I think I'm going to head up to my room. The doctor said to take it easy for a few weeks and I'm really not supposed to stand or walk for extended periods of time," Ali told Emily. "I'd like it if you joined me."

"I'll be there," Emily answered. "I just need to head to my room first and change out of this dress."

"Okay. I'll see you soon, then," Ali smiled. She was secretly relieved. Sleeping alone since the arena had been hard. The prickling feeling that she was still in danger, vulnerable to be attacked the second she closed her eyes was awful, and the nightmares that followed were even worse. An arm around her would help. It did in the Hunger Games.

With Emily by her side, she couldn't be swallowed by darkness. Tonight she would be able to drift to sleep. When morning light came, they would both be okay.


	13. Put the pieces back together pt1

**A/N: Better late than never? I've been a ball of stress lately, but I finally finished my school semester and I've been writing like crazy. There's been a slight change in plans. Instead of the epilogue, I expanded the last chapter into two long chapters, the first being Ali-centric and the second being Emily-centric. They each have their own struggles to deal with post-Games. I'm uploading them together, so if you review both, that would be pretty awesome... :) Also shout out to reviewer Blue because your thoughts were right on track with where I wanted to take this. You even inspired one of the scenes in this chapter.**

* * *

Emily couldn't remember the last time she'd experienced anything remotely resembling a lazy morning. Even before the reaping and everything that followed, she was always an early riser, never one to waste the day in bed. Today, she was content to stay in her spot under the covers, curled up against the girl who had gone to hell and back with her. She wanted to breathe in every detail.

It would be a tragedy to forget how Alison looked as she absentmindedly thumbed through a leather-bound book that had been sitting on the nightstand. Her golden hair, still in soft curls from last night, tumbled over her shoulders. Ali's blue eyes were focused on the book, but Emily wasn't sure if she was actually reading until she scrunched her nose in reaction to whatever was on the page. It was a cute little motion, one that made Emily giggle.

Ali closed the book in her lap and turned her attention to the brunette propped against her side. "I thought you fell back asleep," she murmured.

Truthfully, Emily could use a few more hours of rest. Even with Alison here, there was no escaping the nightmares. She'd woken up at least twice during the night, terrified and tremoring. The initial panic that came upon awakening didn't last long. Heated kisses and wandering hands were a great distraction from gruesome scenes that danced in their thoughts in the dead of night.

Emily knew Ali was still tired as well. The purple circles under her eyes was enough to indicate that, but she looked just as content as Emily felt.

"I drifted off for a little while. Not long enough to have another dream," Emily answered. "Sorry, I didn't mean to distract you from reading."

"Don't worry about it," Ali responded, shoving the book further to the side and repositioning herself until her head was nuzzled into the crook of Emily's neck. "I like having you distract me. You don't need to fling pencils across the room to get my attention."

Emily felt heat rush to her cheeks at the reminder of _that_ embarrassing story. "Shut up. I was like, thirteen," she said, smiling a little so Alison wouldn't think she was being too serious.

"I know," Ali said, her lips grazing Emily's neck. "But I'm never going to let you live it down."

"Great," Emily said, rolling her eyes playfully, but it was hard to keep her breathing from becoming erratic with Alison's lips against her neck. "I can't believe this is our last day in the Capitol."

The words felt foreign. It was difficult to imagine that, by sunset, she would be back in district four, embracing family members she feared she'd never see again. Yet somehow it was reality.

"I bet you're excited," Ali said with a hint of a smile.

"I am," Emily said decisively. "I know it's going to be different now. I'll have a new house and we'll both be in the spotlight for a long time, but it will be nice to have a sense of…stability, I guess. I won't have to worry about it all being taken away from me again."

Ali nodded. "That's one perk to being a victor. The Capitol can't touch your family anymore, unless your parents pop out another kid."

"Ew," Emily laughed, wrinkling her nose. "I don't see that happening."

"Let's hope not," Ali agreed. She sat up and faced the brunette. "But in all seriousness, I'm sure you'll be fine. I can't wait to go to district four with you."

When Ali said things like that, Emily couldn't help but grin. She stared forward, entranced, as Ali painted a picture of what life could be like.

"It'll be so awesome. Just imagine the two of us lounging around on the beach, the sun on our skin, wind in your hair. Just you and me and the sound of the waves. No looking back over our shoulders. How does that sound?"

The answer to her question was in Emily's expression. She bit her lip and looked down as her smile spread wider. Looking up to meet blue eyes again, Emily said, "I want to hear more."

Ali brushed her fingers over Emily's hand and continued speaking without missing a beat. "After the beach, we'll walk along the fence at the edge of the district. We'll be surrounded by flowers, not war hemlock, but beautiful, tall sunflowers that grow in empty places when no one's watching. Every night, we'll sleep under warm blankets, and one day, without us ever noticing, the good dreams will start to outnumber the bad ones."

Emily's eyes fluttered shut as she visualized it. "Could we live like that forever?" she asked, not caring if the question sounded childish.

"Forever," Ali agreed with a hum. "I just need to deal with my family first."

"How bad is it going to be?" Emily asked, opening her eyes and slipping out of the hopeful trance.

"I'm not exactly expecting a warm welcome after telling the entire country how awful they are. Whatever, I'll survive," Alison said. She shrugged, as if it was inconsequential and she could simply brush it off.

"Are you sure you'll be okay? That doesn't sound too good."

"Of course," the girl nodded. Her motions were stiff. "Families fight. It's a fact of life. Do you get along with your parents _all_ the time?" she asked the brunette.

She looked desperate for some type of answer, some confirmation that her family situation wasn't too abnormal.

"Well…my mom wasn't thrilled when she found out I'm gay," Emily admitted. "It's not something we talk about openly. But now everyone knows and I don't care anymore. She's going to have to deal with it. I know she just wants me to be safe and happy. That's what all parents want."

"I guess that's what most want, even if they go about it in a completely twisted way," Ali commented as she continued to trace patterns on Emily's hand.

Emily looked down at their hands, unsure of what to say. She wasn't expecting the next words that came out of Alison's mouth.

"I remember that day, when I was running from home. I remember seeing you."

"You do?" Emily asked, blinking in confusion. "I thought you said you forgot."

"I remembered after I woke up from the war hemlock," Ali answered with a frown. Pulling herself off the bed, she stepped toward the closet. With her back facing Emily, she started thumbing through outfits. "My memory sucks but I guess that one was buried somewhere. I couldn't remember anything when I first woke up…and then it all came back. More memories than I realized I even had."

The brunette was quiet as she processed the new information. "Alison, what else do you remember from that day? Why were you running?" she asked, bracing herself for the answer.

At first she wasn't sure Alison was going to respond. Then, with a deep sigh, she said, "I found out something I wasn't supposed to know. Basically my mom was sleeping around with other men and I called her out on being a whore in front of my dad. I think. The whole thing is still fuzzy."

"That's why my parents can't stand each other anymore," she added, sounding defeated.

Emily got up and joined her by the closet door. She was grateful when Alison let her wrap her arms around her. The girl sunk into the embrace, but only for a minute. Alison wasn't one to let herself be vulnerable for long.

"It's not your fault," Emily whispered after Alison pulled away. She felt sick as another thought came to mind. Ever since that day, she always has a sinking feeling that some kind of physical abuse was involved.

"Did she hit you?" Emily forced herself to ask. The words came out dry. Alison tensed by her side.

"It wasn't a regular thing, Em," she said, indirectly answering the question.

Emily could feel her heart pounding in her chest. "You can't go back there," she said, her voice rising with desperation. "It's not good for you. You can come home with me! Just like we talked about."

"She's still my mom," Ali replied. "I think I need some healthy separation from her, yeah, but I at least need to go see her. I'm not a coward. I'm not running from her again."

Emily crossed her arms. "That doesn't make you a coward. You have to do what's best for you, and that doesn't involve going back to a family that hurts you enough to make you repress memories."

Alison wasn't able to argue before a series of sharp knocks pounded on the bedroom door. When neither girl answered within four seconds, a key turned in the lock and the door was flung open. Alison pulled further away from Emily, wiping her eyes and folding her arms in annoyance.

"I don't remember giving you permission to barge in here. Have you ever heard of privacy?" she snapped at a blue-haired escort.

A camera man stepped in behind him. It was scary how fast Alison went from looking pissed to plastering on a fake smile. "I didn't realize we were filming this morning," she said in a singsong voice, but Emily could still see traces of annoyance in her expression.

"We're only going to take a minute of your time," the escort chirped. At least he seemed to buy the ruse. "The Capitol has a gift for each of you. We need to hurry because we're already behind schedule! The district four mentors couldn't find Miss Fields," he said, casting a glance in Emily's direction.

The brunette realized she was still in the same tank top and shorts she'd slept in. She looked at the camera, not sure if it was already recording. "Are we doing this now or…?" she trailed off.

"Yes! It will only take a second, no styling team required. We simply need your reaction," he said thrusting two small, perfectly wrapped presents in the girls' direction. Emily and Alison exchanged a glance and took the presents from his hand.

Emily wasn't all that surprised when she unwrapped an inter-district travel pass. She was still concerned about Alison's travel plans, but she managed to smile big for the camera. That was part of Snow's agreement; to happily nod along and give thanks as the escort said she and Alison were allowed to move between districts two and four whenever they pleased, as long as they were present in their home districts for the reaping each year.

After the short film segment ended and the camera crew was gone, Alison turned back to the closet and handed an outfit to Emily.

"Jason will be looking for me soon. It's almost time to leave," Ali said as she pulled a shirt over her head.

"I still don't think you should," Emily frowned. It frustrated her that Alison could be so passive about this. "They didn't even tell you goodbye. They can't complain if you don't show up today."

"Emily, I have to go," Alison sighed. "I can take care of myself."

Emily almost scoffed at her argument. Ali thought she could fend for herself against Noel and Nate, too. Look at how that turned out.

"I'll be fine, I promise," she assured Emily, reaching up to cup her face. "Remember what I said about our life in district four. I'll be there soon."

The brunette hated that Alison had the power to persuade her so easily. She was still completely against her decision, but she had a feeling nothing could stop her from leaving.

Her girlfriend- could she call her that now? - had returned to her so many times already, even when the odds were stacked against them. Ali always had a plan and she always kept her word. The only thing Emily could do was relent and hope for the best.

* * *

The flash of gray and green scenery outside of the window was the only thing that hadn't changed since the last time Alison was on a train. On the way to the Capitol, she was fueled with anger, eager to return home to prove to her parents and everyone else that she didn't need them.

In a way, she had gotten what she wanted. But something was different now. Alison was different now. There was still a fire inside her, but now she felt more exhausted than angry. Somewhere along the way, the Games had changed her. She wasn't sure yet just who New Alison was.

She wondered if the people she left behind would be just as unrecognizable as she felt.

A hand touched her shoulder and she flinched. Sudden, unexpected movements had that effect on her these days. She turned around, half expecting to see Noel standing behind her, shoving cookies into his mouth, just as he had on the train ride to the Hunger Games. Nope, not Noel. Noel was dead.

Instead, it was her brother. Jason nodded to her and sat in a chair across from her. He turned his head to the window, watching the world pass by in fast-motion.

"We're almost home. I've been on this train enough times to know how exactly how many hours and minutes it takes to get back from the Capitol," Jason told her.

"How many minutes left, then?" Ali asked.

"Less than ten."

Sure enough, the train did seem to be slowing. It was impossible to tell from the inside, but outside the window, she could finally pick out shapes of the mountains that surrounded districts one and two. Minutes before, everything had been too blurry to even notice.

The blonde turned her attention to her brother. He'd changed since the reaping, too. So many weeks had passed since then that Ali had stopped keeping count, but she figured it was long enough for Jason's withdrawal symptoms to fade away. He was less pale now, less shaky. And look, he'd even brushed his normally unkempt hair this morning. Huh.

Jason noticed her watching him. When he asked what her deal was she merely shrugged and looked back out the window.

"Hey Al, can you do me a favor?" he asked after another minute of silence. Ali raised an eyebrow, prompting him to say whatever was on his mind. "I noticed you threw away your pain meds. I was thinking maybe you could do the same with the pills back home. I would do it myself, but I'd rather not see the morphling at all. It would be too tempting, you know?"

"I'll take care of it. It's about time you got rid of them," Ali said, answering casually, though she was secretly swelling with pride that Jason looked to be moving out of his zombie phase. She made a mental note to check all of Jason's hiding places before heading to district four.

"Maybe you could hide Mom's sleeping pills, too," Jason suggested.

Ali pressed her lips together, frowning slightly. "And deal with her withdrawal? No thanks, I'm not unleashing that monster."

Jason was unwilling to comment on that. It was like there was some unspoken agreement not to talk much about their parents.

The train came to a stop a couple of minutes later, just as Jason had predicted.

Ali took a deep breath as she waited for the doors to open. Stand up tall. Chin up. Don't look weak in front of their critical eyes. It was amazing how fast she could slip back into the mentality that appearance is everything.

The mask only needed to come on to get her through the day.

The doors opened and she stepped into the warm, late summer air of district two. Only one person had shown up to say goodbye, but the area surrounding the train was now filled to the brim with people lined up to welcome her home. Like they actually cared.

Ali smiled as they cheered and called her name, more from the irony of the situation than from happiness. Still, she had to admit that the love and admiration of a crowd felt a hell of a lot better than waiting alone for people who would never show.

It took her a while to find her parents among the horde of people. She caught sight of her mother pushing to get to the front of the crowd. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a bun and she looked tired- more tired than normal.

Her father approached her from a different direction. Ali didn't know what to think or how to react, but she found herself stepping forward to meet him halfway. He pulled her into a protective hug and she tentatively draped an arm around him, unsure whether or not she wanted the affection.

"Alison," her mother said, tapping her on the shoulder. The name sounded like a long sigh. Ali looked into blue eyes that were so much like her own, beautiful but guarded. In them she could see a plea for forgiveness, or maybe it was a plea to act normal for the sake of the cameras. Victors are supposed to have tearful reunions with their mothers, not ignore them.

So Ali played along, hugging Jessica DiLaurentis as cameras flashed behind them. Over her shoulder, she could see Jason and their father nod to each other. It was an impersonal gesture, not affectionate in the slightest, and Ali briefly thought of what Jason told her once, that he would never be the favorite child.

"Come on, we have to go see the new house. I set up your new room exactly like the old one. You'll feel right at home," her mother told her, taking her by the arm and starting to guide her away from the crowd.

It wasn't exactly an _I'm sorry _or _I missed you_, but maybe that would come later. Alison scanned the crowd one more time, standing up straighter when she noticed a familiar brunette. Someone she'd grown up with. Someone who she still cared about, deep down.

She needed to make amends with Spencer Hastings as soon as possible and thank her for what she'd done.

Alison tried to wave to Spencer, but she was already leaving. "I have to go. I'll meet you later," she told her mother as she took a step away.

"What do you mean you have to go?" Jessica asked, her tone disapproving. She turned to block her daughter from leaving. "The only thing you should be doing is spending time with your family. What are they going to think about you running off?" she asked, eyes darting to the crowd.

"I don't care what they think. It's none of their business. Or yours," Alison muttered, pushing past her mother's shoulder, not looking back to see the death glare that was surely aimed her way.

"_Alison. _Don't start this. Not now," Jessica warned her in a hushed whisper.

"Let her go. It's fine, as long as she's back for dinner," her father interjected. He and her mother exchanged a look. Ali could feel the tension between them. It was uncomfortable, so she took advantage of her father's approval and separated herself from the two of them as quickly as possible.

As she pushed past people in the crowd, looking for Spencer, she wondered how Emily's family reunion was going. It was probably pleasant and _normal_. Lord knows the people watching Alison's family would probably dissect every little gesture and comment on it.

Chasing those thoughts from her mind, Ali put her attention to tracking down the youngest Hastings. People were starting to clear out- the people who weren't crowding Ali every two seconds, that is. She was beginning to feel suffocated. She needed to get out and away from the crowd so she could actually breathe. Spencer was probably halfway home by now.

Aside from a few stragglers following her like lost puppies, Ali was able to lose most of the crowd after leaving the train station.

"Hey, Ali, congrats! We were, like, so worried about you," one of the stragglers said. Ali didn't have to turn around to know it was Sydney, an old "friend" of hers. Cindy and Mindy were probably right behind her.

Ali couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Yeah, it really seemed like it," she mumbled, not even dignifying them by looking back. Normally, she would be pleased with them sucking up to her, but after everything that had happened, she was annoyed.

Sydney tried to make another comment, so Ali cut her off by saying, "I'm going visit someone who actually cared enough to say goodbye. You can leave now!"

"We were going to come, I swear! Something came up, Cindy and Mindy had this thing and my mom said I had to-"

"No," Ali growled, finally spinning around to face the girls. She noticed there were a few other kids from school behind them. She didn't care if they heard this. "You could have made time. Nothing was stopping you. I bet you didn't even care, because you were so sure I was going to die in that arena that you never thought we'd have this conversation. So what now? You want to be friends again? Why? So I can buy you expensive birthday presents? Because you know they only way you'll _ever _be popular is if you're associated with me? Forget it. I don't want to see you and I don't want to know you. Get lost."

Alison looked at their horrified expressions, feeling satisfied. That's what they deserved. Then another feeling bubbled up. Guilt. Fear that she hadn't changed at all. She may not have had a chance to get acquainted with New Ali yet, but she knew she hated Old Ali. She didn't want to be that person again. Being back in district two was making it all too easy to revert to old patterns.

She spun back around, cheeks flushed, and kept walking to Spencer's house. At least they'd stopped following her. Biting her tongue, Ali even managed to refrain from spitting back insults when one of the idiot boys made a last ditch effort to get her attention by asking her where her lesbian lover was.

Her chest was tight by the time she reached the gravel road that stretched in front of the old DiLaurentis and Hastings houses. No one had moved into her old house since they relocated to Victor's Village. Technically, her parents still owned it, but no one made any effort to take care of it. It looked abandoned and dilapidated. Ali found it a little depressing to see her childhood home overgrown with vines. It felt like all of her carefree memories would decay along with it.

The Hastings house was in much better condition. It was bigger than the neighboring house, a fact which couldn't be disguised by the broad field between the homes.

Alison's breaths were ragged as she took the final steps to Spencer's house. She was still recovering from her surgery, and the fact that she hadn't been taking medicine wasn't helping with the pain. She took a minute to collect herself and knocked on the dark gray door.

Spencer answered a few seconds later, not looking overly surprised to see Alison. She leaned against the door frame. "Hey. I guess congratulations are in order."

"Hey, Spence. Um, thanks," Ali responded, suddenly nervous. She didn't know how to talk to Spencer anymore. They weren't really friends; hadn't been in years. "Do you have a minute to talk?"

"Yeah. You can come inside, if you want," Spencer said. She sounded calm, but she was a little fidgety as well. "Melissa's here, though."

Spencer's sister had never been Alison's biggest fan, especially since some drama had unfolded with her ex-boyfriend a few years back. "We can stay out here," Ali suggested.

"Okay," the brunette agreed, closing the door behind her.

The porch was small and crowded, so Ali walked down the steps and motioned for Spencer to follow. "I wanted to say thank you for what you did," Ali began.

"It was nothing. Just human compassion."

"No, it meant a lot," Ali insisted. She stepped into the grassy field. Luckily, it was nothing like the meadow in the Hunger Games. It felt like home. Honestly, it was the only thing she'd encountered since stepping off the train that felt like home.

There was a pulling in her chest again, partly from emotion but mostly from shortness of breath. She sat down in the tall grass, crossing her legs. There were a couple of wildflowers near her. She could still pick out the names of the plants from the summers she spent her with Spencer when they were kids: _aster, goldenrod, sage. _

"Lots of goldenrod this year," Spencer said. It was an offhand comment, an attempt to make conversation, but Ali smiled because their thoughts were in tune.

"You know, all your nerdy flower knowledge really came in handy. It's part of the reason I'm still alive," Alison said.

"The war hemlock…" Spencer said, looking up at the sky pensively. "I remember we were obsessed with it one year. We even spied on that man in the wheelchair. God, that plan you came up with was so stupidly risky. I can't believe it actually worked. That _was_ your plan, right?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at the blonde.

"Stupidly risky was the only choice I had." Ali felt goosebumps on her skin the second Spencer mentioned it. It was unlikely, but if someone overheard them talking about it, she could still be put to death for defiance. "I couldn't fight against Emily. I needed another way out," she explained, her voice coming out weak.

Spencer nodded, though now she was studying Alison like she was trying to dissect her thoughts. "I knew something was up with you two the second I saw her wearing the bracelet."

"I gave it to her the night before the Games."

"Well I'm glad it was useful," Spencer said, sitting down beside her. "And, um, I'm glad you found someone you care about. Emily seems like a nice girl."

"She is, trust me," Ali said. She looked down and absentmindedly plucked petals off of a flower. "You would like her. She sees the best in everyone. I want to be the person she sees when she looks at me."

"How do you know you're not that person?"

Ali sighed and kept her eyes down, away from the other girl. "That person wouldn't have left you behind, Spence. That was a bitch move."

It was quiet, then Spencer said, "Well, I'm not disagreeing with you." A long time ago, a response like that might have bothered her. Now she could find an appreciation for Spencer's honesty. Then the bookish brunette added, "It's in the past. I'd really like to forget about it and move on. Just don't let the attention go to your head again."

"I won't," Ali said. "I could use a new start. I'll probably be in district four a lot, so don't let your family push you too hard while I'm gone, alright?"

"I'll try, but no promises. Being pushed to the limit is part of being a Hastings. You won't believe what happened last week."

Ali listened as Spencer launched into a story about her family's latest shenanigans. She imagined this is the closest she would ever get to traveling back in time, to summer days before the Hunger Games made a permanent impact on her life. It felt surprisingly normal.

* * *

It was strange, almost eerie, how similar Alison's new room looked to her old one. Her bed was placed in the same corner of the room, the curtains draped over the window like they always had, and the dolls she hadn't touched in years but still liked to admire were in sitting in her plush white chair, just like always. Even her sunglasses were in the same position she'd left them in before the reaping, right on the corner of her dresser.

Her mother had literally taken her bedroom and moved it to the house next door. (Because it was really necessary for them to own two houses in Victor's Village when Ali herself didn't even plan on spending much time there. Oh well, at least her parents would have separate places to sleep.)

The only noticeable difference was that the walls of this new house hadn't been painted yet. Instead of the pale pink she'd grown accustomed to, these were stark white, dull yet distracting. Everything else was so meticulously placed to mimic her old room that the one imperfection stood out like a sore thumb.

Alison couldn't shake the feeling that something was _off_, but being in her room was better than being downstairs. She'd just survived family dinner. It bothered her how normal everything was. No, not normal; fake. No one even said a word about the Hunger Games. All her mother wanted to discuss was home decoration plans and how well the roast had turned out.

It wasn't like Alison had just gone through the most traumatic experience of her life or anything.

Ali dug through the closet until she found her light blue duffel bag. She started throwing clothes into it, not checking to see exactly what she was packing.

When the door creaked open behind her, she jolted up and the clothes in her hands fell to the floor.

"What are you doing? Surely you're not going anywhere tonight," her mother said.

Alison didn't want to look back to meet her disapproving gaze. She bent down and picked the clothes off the floor, examining each article as if the fabric was particularly interesting. She tried to say something, but the words were caught in her throat.

"Alison, look at me." Her tone left no room for question or challenge.

Ali took a deep breath and turned to face the older woman. When she saw her mother's worried expression, she thought Jessica DiLaurentis might break down then and there.

But she didn't.

She cocked her head to the side as she stared at her daughter. "What are you packing for? You just got home."

"If you watched the broadcast this morning, you would know I have a travel pass to district four," Alison responded, though she still felt like there was a lump in her throat. She glanced over at where the card was sitting on the edge of her bed, prepared to lunge for it in case her mom tried to take it.

"No one said you have to go," Jessica argued. She stepped further into the room, closer to Alison.

"I _want_ to go. It's way better than being here, watching you walk around like-like nothing even happened! Like you're not aware that I trashed you on live television because you didn't even tell me goodbye! Am I supposed to forget about that?"

Her mother clenched her eyes shut in frustration. "That was a very stressful day for me and your father. I wanted to come, Ali, I did. I wasn't emotionally available. It wouldn't have made you feel any better."

"How can you say that? How can you decide what would've made me feel better? Cause you know what, it made me feel like shit. And that's _your _fault," Ali fired back, shaking with anger and also feeling dangerously close to tears.

It was her mother who broke down first. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. Please don't leave. Damn it, I just got you back. I thought I was going to lose you," she cried, wiping tears as they fell.

Alison faltered. Comforting her was out of the question, but she didn't know how to react. Tears sprung to her own eyes and she tried blinking them away unsuccessfully.

"If you don't want to lose me for good, then let me go. I need space," Ali decided on saying. "It's just a different district. At least I'm not dead." She regretted the last sentence when she saw her mother visibly flinch. She wondered what it was like for her to hear her daughter's death cannon. How did it feel when she was revealed to be alive on a hovercraft?

"You barely know her," her mother said weakly. It took Ali a second to realize she was referring to Emily.

"That's not true," Ali began, crossing her arms. Her voice was calmer now, but only slightly. Speaking too loud would cause it to waver, and Ali hated the thought of that. "You should be grateful to her. She saved me. Multiple times."

_Even before the Games, she was looking out for me. She kept me safe from YOU, _she added in her thoughts. The memory wasn't perfectly clear, but it was there, and it was hard to forget how furious her mother was that day. Hands balled into fists, followed by a sharp slap…

"I don't know what you want me to do," Jessica sighed. She suddenly looked so much older. "I said I'm sorry. I know I haven't been the best…our family hasn't been the best…but we can fix it."

She stepped forward to pull Alison into a hug, but the younger girl instinctively pulled away. "No, don't do that. Not right now." She still harbored too much anger, but maybe one day that would change. Only if she had space. "Maybe we'll get there someday. Maybe," she added for her mother's benefit.

Alison turned back around to continue packing, ignoring the last round of tears that slid against her cheek. She expected to hear footsteps walking away, toward the door. Instead, her mother went to the dresser and pulled out some folded clothes.

"If you have to go, at least let me help you pack."


	14. Put the pieces back together pt2

**A/N: Last chapter...(Make sure you see the update right before this one. I uploaded two chapters at once.) This makes me sad and proud at the same time because it's the first multichapter I've ever attempted/finished. I hope it's a satisfying ending! Thank you to everyone who read this and/or reviewed, especially the regular reviewers. I know you all by name and y'all have made me smile on multiple occasions.**

* * *

Eyes were glued to Emily and her friends as they walked through the market area of district four. At one time, their gazes may have made the victor flinch or shy away, but now she stared back curiously, albeit cautiously. The nosiness was to be expected. There was something else bothering her that was hard to put into words.

"Come on, Em," Aria said, and it was only then Emily realized she'd fallen behind her two friends.

Stepping forward, she tried to embrace the distinctive sea breeze of district four. It whipped through her hair and glided over her skin. For a second, it calmed her enough to shake off the beginnings of anxiety pooling in her chest. This was home. Her family had welcomed her back with open arms yesterday and now Aria and Hanna were here to help her settle back in. Alison would be here soon. Everything was fine.

"There were posters with your name on them on like every shop window," Hanna chattered. "I even got discounts for being your best friend. I think people are really glad someone normal finally won for our district, because the other victors are creepy as hell."

"I'm not going to defend Meredith. She woke me up on the first day in the Capitol by standing at the foot of my bed with a knife," Emily responding. The nervous feeling returned when she mentioned the Capitol. She suddenly felt compelled to change the subject.

"So, what did I miss when I was gone?" she added quickly, looking to Aria and Hanna for an answer.

"Aria and Ezra broke up _again_," Hanna said, earning a glare from the tiny brunette.

"This is the last time, I swear, it's really over," Aria explained. It was something Emily had heard at least three times before.

"You've said that a billion times already." Hanna rolled her eyes as she voiced what both she and Emily were thinking.

"Well this time I'm positive."

"What did he do? Another family secret?" Emily asked.

"Worse," Aria muttered, but offered no further explanation. She looked away, the feathers tied to her hair fluttering in the wind. Then her big, hazel green eyes focused on Emily. "What about you? When do we get to meet Alison?"

"She's coming soon. She had some stuff to deal with at home first," Emily explained, frowning slightly.

Her eyes widened when Hanna said, "I can't wait for this girl to get here so we can evaluate her."

"Hanna! Don't make her uncomfortable. It's hard enough for her already, leaving her family behind," Emily pleaded.

"Just looking out for you, Em. That's our job," Hanna said, giving the brunette a sly smile.

"Well I think Alison and Emily are cute," Aria said. Her affectionate grin was so different from Hanna's. It was no secret to the taller brunette that Aria was a hopeless romantic at heart.

Emily was taken off guard when a small person nearly bumped into her. It was a boy, a very young one at that, and he looked completely awestruck to see Emily.

"Hey, Emily! I'm Archie, and I'm going to be a victor like you some day," the child exclaimed.

"Oh really?" Emily asked. Amusement from the kid's excitement couldn't override the feeling of discomfort. No kid should want to be part of the Hunger Games.

"Yeah! You were so awesome when you used that bow and arrow. Noel fell right to the ground, dead!" he said, making a face to imitate how Noel's lifeless corpse looked. Not that Emily needed a reminder.

She felt like the blood had drained from her face, leaving her lightheaded and dizzy. Forcing herself out of her frozen position, she crouched down to the boy's level and said, "You don't want to be like me, Archie. It wasn't fun for me. I-I didn't mean to..."

The child scrunched his eyebrows in confusion.

"Emily needs a minute," Aria interjected. With Hanna's help, they lifted Emily up and pulled her away.

"Go find your mom, kid. She's probably worried," Hanna called to him. "I know I would be," she added once he was out of earshot, "if I had a kid walking up to strangers to talk about death."

Emily tried desperately to calm her pounding heart. She tried to see something other than Noel's body tangled up in the grass.

"We're at the beach. Your favorite place," Aria announced. Emily blinked her eyes and, sure enough, they'd somehow walked over to their spot on the beach. How had she missed that? They'd just been by the market.

She stepped into the sand, attempting to internalize the moment by engaging her senses. The sand felt like powder against her feet and her heels sunk into it slightly. It was warm from the sun and the sound of gulls and waves surrounded her.

The last time she was here was the morning of the reaping, she realized, but she bit back the growing uneasiness before she could hit her breaking point. A lot had changed since then. After next year, there would be no more fear of goodbyes. They would all be over eighteen, safe from the annual reaping.

Emily moved forward and let the rushing water brush over her feet. It was nice and cool. She stepped further in, not caring about getting her shorts wet. Aria and Hanna were behind her, discussing whether they should go back to the Fields house for lunch. Emily could hear them, but her brain was barely registering it. She felt disconnected in some way, just like when she woke up in the hospital after being taken out of the arena. Everything was dreamlike.

It threatened to turn into a nightmare at any second. Emily still felt dangerously close to the edge. The sensation scared her. It felt like she was losing her sanity, and all she wanted was to be planted back safely in reality.

The cool water seemed to help because, right now, it was the only thing she could feel besides the panic building inside her. She waded in deeper and deeper, soaking her clothes. Once she was deep enough, she lost her footing and started to swim.

The waves were gentle; the ocean was typically rougher, harsher. It was almost too still. Almost like a lake. Like the lake in the arena. Suddenly, she wasn't in district four anymore. She was in the Hunger Games, thrashing around in the water, eyes blocked by darkness. Her side ached and her back was weighted down. Mona was somewhere out here. Mona was coming for her.

Emily shrieked and started sobbing. She couldn't fight the instinct that she needed to get out of the water, but it was like she'd forgotten how to swim gracefully. Her flailing movements made it difficult to escape.

Sand and shells scraped against her feet and she propelled herself forward, falling onto the shoreline. Water was still rushing around her when she felt hands grip her wrist. She fought against that, too. Mona. It had to be Mona.

No. Mona was electrocuted. She was still out in the water, being charred to a crisp because of Emily.

The brunette cried out again. Her limbs drooped and she quit fighting, instead opting to curl up in a ball.

"Emily! Emily! You're okay! It's just us!"

Emily shuddered. She recognized the voices but couldn't make sense of them. She was still trapped between words. Grains of sand were all over her face, in her eyelashes and covering her nose. Somewhere inside of her, she knew she was on a beach in district four, but the fear of danger and imminent death was so overpowering.

The scene eventually faded into focus. Aria and Hanna hugged her and she barely kept from pushing them away. It was already hard to breathe and they were making her feel more constricted.

"What's wrong? What happened?" one of them asked. Emily couldn't answer. She felt helpless, like a small child incapable of communicating her feelings.

Aria took off running suddenly.

Emily wasn't sure how much time elapsed between her friend leaving and her father kneeling in front of her. He took her into his arms and helped her back to the house.

"It's okay, Emmy. You're home. You're safe," he told her as they sat down on the sofa. Pam Fields wrapped a blanket over her daughter's trembling body and pressed a wet towel to her forehead.

"What happened back there?" the woman asked Emily and Hanna, who were both hovering in the living room.

"She was in the water and she started freaking out! We didn't know what to do," Hanna said.

"It's probably post-traumatic stress disorder," her father said. "It's common among people who've been in combat. I'd bet most victors have it in some form." He turned to his daughter and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Emily, when you were in the water, were you thinking about the arena?"

Emily still felt breathless, but she found it in herself to nod. "I'm sorry," she said, even though she knew logically that there was no reason to apologize.

"You don't have to be sorry. We just want you to be okay," Aria said, and Pam Fields nodded in agreement.

"You just need some rest. Relax a little." Pam picked up the remote and turned the TV on. When the screen lit up to show a Hunger Games recap, she made a face and flipped frantically through the channels. Finally, she settled on a melodramatic Capitol soap opera.

It wasn't particularly engaging, but it was enough to make Emily calm down. Her dad stayed by her side on the sofa and her friends were on the other side of the room, occasionally commenting on the show's ridiculous storylines.

Soon after, the phone sent a loud ring through the house. Her mother picked it up in an instant.

"Hello? Oh, hi. It's nice to speak to you. I'm not sure she's feeling up to talking on the phone right now. Is there anything you'd like me to tell her?" her mother said, casting a glance in Emily's direction.

Emily craned her neck to look over the back of the sofa. "Who is it?"

"It's Alison DiLaurentis."

"Let me talk to her. I feel fine," Emily said. She extended an arm out to take the phone. Her mother complied and handed it to her.

"Hey Ali," Emily said, feeling a new wave of nervousness wash over her as she wondered how the blonde had faired facing her family. She glanced at Hanna and Aria, who were both watching her curiously.

"Hello, Emily. Is everything okay? Your mom said you're not feeling well?" Her voice rose up at the end to make it a question.

"I'm fine. I was feeling funny earlier, but it passed. How are you doing? I wanted to call you as soon as I saw I had a phone. I didn't know your number…"

"It's cool. I had to call a Capitol operator to get yours," Ali explained. "Everything's good. My mom understands that I need space. I'm actually on a train now." She hesitating before adding, "Are you sure your parents are okay with me coming?"

"Of course, Ali. It's no problem," Emily said. If Alison was on a train, it meant she would be here within two hours. Probably a lot less than two hours if the train was already on its way to district four.

"Good. It's a little late to turn back, anyway," Ali laughed. Even over the phone, it was one of Emily's favorite sounds.

"I'm so glad you're coming. I really can't wait until you get here."

"It won't be long," the girl assured her. "I'm supposed to get there in about forty-five minutes. So, what are you up to right now?"

Emily shifted on the sofa. "I'm with my family and Aria and Hanna. We're watching some weird soap opera. It's ridiculous. This woman just kidnapped her stepson because she found her husband's mistress in the house."

"Oh God. Cause _that's_ going to make the situation better," Ali said, and the brunette could picture her rolling her eyes. "Well I don't want to keep you from watching the confrontation that's about to happen. I'll see you soon, okay? I love you."

Exchanging those three words was still a new experience for them. Hearing Ali say it again made Emily's heart flutter just as much as it had the first time. "I love you, too. See you soon," she said into the phone.

Aria and Hanna smiled knowingly at Emily after she hung up, causing heat to rush to her cheeks. Her dad pretended to be engrossed in the train-wreck soap opera.

"What time is she coming?" her mother asked. "I'm assuming she'll be staying with us for a while, which is no problem, considering her family situation."

"She's on the train. She'll be here in about forty-five minutes. I can go pick her up," Emily said.

Her mother made a concerned face in response. "Maybe Aria and Hanna can pick her up by the station and bring her back here. I think you need to rest, honey."

"Mom, I'll be fine. I won't go back to the beach."

"We'll go with her," Hanna chimed in.

"Well, okay, but don't stay out long," Pam relented, though she looked unconvinced. "Emily, you need to come home the second you start feeling sick. Do you understand?"

"Yeah. I will." Emily tried hard to keep the exasperation out her voice.

"Em, don't take this the wrong way, but you might want to go take a shower or change before Alison gets here. You're still in the clothes you, uh, went swimming in," Aria pointed out.

Emily had almost forgotten about that. "You're right. I'll be back, guys," she said.

She still had around forty minutes to freshen up. Stepping under the shower, Emily flinched as the water hit her back. It was nothing like being in the ocean, but after that panic episode, she was apprehensive about being triggered again.

One thing was for sure: she would never enjoy swimming again as long as it remained a connection to the arena.

* * *

The air in district four felt heavier than it did in district two. It was hotter, more humid. Autumn was approaching, but this place gave the impression of a perpetual summer.

Alison slung the strap of her duffel bag over her shoulder and walked down a ramp after leaving the train. She immediately scanned the area, looking for Emily. She was met by the sight of three girls.

_That must be Aria and Hanna_, she noted. She remembered hearing about them during training. Em mentioned something about Aria being small, right? Was Hanna the one with the short, blonde hair? She was pretty. Not in the same way Alison found Emily pretty, but still intimidatingly attractive.

Tearing her sight away from the unfamiliar girls, she locked eyes with Emily and immediately felt herself exhale with relief. She knew she'd see the girl soon, but there was something inexplicable about physically being near her; knowing she could reach out and kiss and touch her.

Ali set her duffel bag down and met Em halfway in a hug. She leaned her head into the brunette's shoulders as the girl's arms locked around her. They might have stayed that way for longer if they were alone. Cautiously, Ali reached up to cup Emily's face and peck her lips.

"Aww," one of the girls, a small brunette, said. Ali gave her an uncertain smile. She looked nice enough, even if her clothing was a little mix-matched. Alison subconsciously smoothed the fabric of her own skirt. She'd made an effort to look nice today. Appearance forms impressions.

"Aria, right? I'm Alison," she said to the shorter girl.

"Yep, that's me. It's nice to meet you," she replied.

"And this is Hanna," Emily said, motioning to the other blonde. She peered at Alison with an unreadable expression.

"As long as you're with Emily, I expect to see you a lot. I'm glad we're getting the introductions out the way," Hanna said.

"Yeah, I guess so. It's nice to put a face with a name," Ali said. She examined Hanna again, trying to get a read on her, before turning back to Emily. "So are we heading back to your house?"

"I wanted to show you around the district first, if you don't mind. We can drop off your bag," Emily answered. As if Ali would have any problem with it. She was content just to spend time with her.

"Sounds perfect," she answered.

Emily leaned down to pick up Alison's bag. "You don't have to carry it, Em. I can get it," Ali said.

"I know you can, but I want to do it for you," Emily responded. "Come on," she said, reaching for Ali's hand after the strap was secure over her shoulder.

They ended up dropping the duffel bag on the front porch of the mansion instead of immediately going inside because, as Hanna put it, "once you start talking to Em's parents, it will be dark before we get a chance to go out." Alison wasn't sure whether that meant Emily's parents were chatterboxes or that they would be questioning her for hours. Seeing as Em didn't inherit any gene to make her overly talkative, her thoughts jumped to the latter scenario.

The thing was, Alison really, _really, _wanted Emily's parents to like her. For most of her life, she'd expected to be liked. It was unusual for her to be so anxious over a first impression. It never really mattered much before.

Emily could have been the only victor if Alison hadn't "risen from the dead." Did that make her a burden to the Fields?

Scenarios passed through her thoughts as the four girls walked through the district. Alison tried her best to be attentive and pay attention to all of their stories.

Something strange happened when they passed the high school. Aria tensed up when she spotted a dark-haired man standing just outside the entrance.

"Don't think about it, Aria," Hanna warned.

After a long glance, the man turned around and walked into the school. "I-I have to go. You guys can go on," Aria said in a rush. Within seconds, she was halfway to the building.

"Oh my God," Hanna and Emily said in unison. Alison looked around in confusion. She obviously wasn't in the know about whatever was going on, but she'd already decided that she liked the quirky brunette. Hanna, on the other hand, she wasn't sure about yet.

"What just happened?" Ali asked Emily.

"That was her ex-boyfriend, Ezra. Let's just say they've had a really dramatic relationship."

"At this point, it could be on that soap opera," Hanna grumbled, examining her nails. Looking at Ali, she said, "Oh, and guess what? He's our teacher."

"She's dating a teacher? Damn." Alison was kind of impressed that Aria managed to pull that off. But if it was as bad as the others said, it probably wasn't a good thing.

"Maybe I should follow her," Emily said. "When this happens, they either get in an argument or get back together. I don't think either is good for her right now."

"Good idea. I'll stay with Alison," Hanna told her.

Ali watched Emily follow her friend into the school. She could feel Hanna's eyes on her and it was making her fidgety. Also a little annoyed. She turned around and looked at the other blonde questioningly.

Hanna was wearing a tight-lipped smile. "Alright, you're new and you're doing good so far, but let's make one thing clear. Emily's my friend and I look after her. So if you even think about hurting her, I have to hurt you. Got it?"

Ali pursed her lips and lifted her chin. Was this girl serious? It was a clear protective friend act, but it sounded like she really believed Ali was a manipulator at heart. "If I wanted to hurt her, I would've had plenty of opportunity in the arena. Sorry, I thought that was pretty obvious."

"You can never be too sure. I mean, she was the one always taking the fall for you," Hanna said, standing up straighter so she was the same height as Ali. "But I do think you care about her. I'm just warning you to be careful because she's really fragile right now."

Ali crossed her arms in defense, but the part about Emily being fragile made her hesitate. Hanna didn't say she was fragile in general; she specifically said 'right now'. "What do you mean? She just got out of the arena. You can't expect her to be the exact same person she was before."

"She was a nervous wreck last night worrying about you. And earlier today…" Hanna trailed off, deciding against whatever she was going to say. "The point is she has it bad for you, and sometimes she can be too trusting. Someone has to look after her."

"I'm not going to hurt her. I wouldn't come all this way just to break her heart," Alison asserted. She hoped Hanna would believe her. "What happened earlier today?" she asked, remembering how Mrs. Fields had made a comment over the phone about Emily not feeling well.

"She's coming back," Hanna said, looking over Ali's shoulder.

Alison turned to see Emily walking back with her hands up in surrender. "It's too late. We've lost her."

"She forgave him already? Ugh, she didn't even tell us what he did this time," Hanna grumbled.

"I don't even know the guy, but it sounds exhausting," Alison said. She peered at Emily, wondering what had happened and why she couldn't know about it. The brunette would probably tell her later. She was usually an open book, unlike Alison. They balanced each other out that way.

"It is exhausting. Aria will learn eventually. Or maybe they'll actually make it work this time around. It's possible," Emily said, shrugging. "Where else should we go?"

"We haven't seen the beach yet. Maybe we could go there and then head back to your house," Ali suggested.

Emily and Hanna exchanged a glance that didn't go unnoticed by Alison. "It looks like it might rain," Hanna said, looking up at gray clouds that were rolling in.

"And see how everything's getting a kind of yellowish tint?" Emily added. "That means a big thunderstorm. You don't want to get stranded on the beach in bad weather."

"Then maybe we should head back now," Alison said as she watched for a reaction.

"Yeah, we should do that," Emily agreed, a little too quickly.

The three of them walked back through the district in relative silence. As they neared Victor's Village, Hanna decided it was time for her to go home for the night. The sky was just beginning to darken when Emily and Alison stepped into the Fields' house.

Ali's duffel bag had already been removed from the porch. The blonde mentally prepared herself as she walked in, just in case Em's parents would corner her using the same protective speech as Hanna. Almost immediately, she was able to spot them preparing dinner in the open kitchen. Both of them looked up when they heard the door close.

Seeming to sense that Alison was nervous, Emily reached out and grabbed her hand for support. Ali was grateful to have something to hold onto.

"Alison, we've been waiting to meet you," Emily's father said. He washed off his hands in the sink and walked over to the girls. Alison expected a handshake but was met with a firm hug. "Thank you for taking care of my daughter in the arena."

"I'd say she took care of me," Ali said. It was, after all, the truth, and everyone knew it. "It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Fields. I've heard a lot of great things about you," she said, smiling at the older man. There was a definite resemblance between him and his daughter.

"Great things about me too, I hope," Emily's mother spoke up from her spot by the counter.

"Of course," Ali said while glancing at Emily.

"We're glad to have you, Alison," the girl's mother said with a polite smile. "Emily, why don't you come help me finish dinner?"

"I can help, too," Ali offered before mentally slapping herself because she knew absolutely nothing about cooking. But it was too late to redact the offer.

Luckily, they each had simple jobs. Alison stirred the stew while Emily chopped some carrots and potatoes. The brunette seemed to wince when she picked up the knife. Alison automatically understood that it was a reminder of Nate.

"Hey Em, do you wanna switch?" she asked.

"Yes, please," Emily nodded. Alison picked up the knife and willed herself not to imagine it as the weapon that killed tributes and drew scars on her collarbone. Even though she was safe in Emily's kitchen, far away from the Hunger Games, just holding it was enough to make her hand quiver.

Mrs. Fields must have noticed that the chopped ingredients looked horrendously sloppy, but she refrained from pointing it out. "So Alison, have you put any thought into what your talent will be?" she asked.

"Um, not really." Alison took a minute to consider it. She'd almost forgotten that victors were supposed to use their spare time to perfect a craft. "I used to play piano, but I don't like it much anymore."

"Well I'm sure you'll find something," Mr. Fields said from the table.

"Emily, maybe you could work on cooking as your talent," Mrs. Fields suggested.

"Maybe. I don't know," Emily said doubtfully. Her dark eyes drifted to the knife. "I don't think it's the best fit."

"You always have swimming," Alison said. Emily looked down and shrugged in response.

They settled down for dinner soon after. Alison felt somewhat out of place having dinner with parents she didn't know, but it wasn't unpleasant. Maybe someday, they would mean something to her beyond being the family of the girl she loved. Maybe, just maybe, this could be her family, and the Fields could be there for her in a way her biological parents never were.

Emily's mother, Pam, showed Alison to the guest room later on. It was similar to the extra room in her district two house, but it was decorated to have a beachy feel. Clean white linens draped over a queen-sized bed and framed photos of seashells adorned the walls.

It wasn't quite Ali-esque, but the blonde wasn't going to complain. The only thing she really disliked about the guest room was the fact that she was expected to sleep here every night, alone.

"You can unpack you bag and get settled in. Bring any laundry to the utility room," Pam said.

Emily sat on the bed while Ali examined the closet space. They were both waiting for Pam to close the door and let them finally have a minute to themselves, but she seemed intent on standing in the doorway. Ali had the feeling she was reluctant to leave them alone for fear of what might go on behind closed doors.

"Emily, tell Alison good night. You've both had a long day and you'll see each other in the morning," she said before finally giving up and walking away, though she made a point to leave the door wide open.

Ali joined Emily on the edge of the bed after the woman left. Em looked mildly annoyed. She was staring out the open doorway, shaking her head, and the little pout on her face was kinda cute.

"One thing's for sure; your mom is definitely not naïve. She knows what would happen if she let us share a room," Ali whispered.

Emily smiled, suddenly shy. "I guess she doesn't want to think about her daughter…yeah…"she blushed. "But she's hovering like crazy and it's already annoying."

Ali spoke quietly by Emily's ear. "There's no way she's going to police the hallway all night." She pressed her lips to the girl's cheek.

Emily turned and brought their lips together. It was meant to be a quick, harmless kiss, but Ali couldn't stop herself from deepening it. Emily hands were tangled in her blonde hair when Pam called Emily's name from downstairs.

The tan skinned girl threw her head back and groaned in frustration. "I'm going to bed now, Mom!" she yelled. After saying good night to Ali, she left the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

* * *

The time read 12:02. Alison wondered if Pam Fields was the type of person who considered midnight late. She hoped Emily's mother was sound asleep by now so she could slip out the room unnoticed.

A loud clap of thunder shook the window and Ali shuddered. It had thundered all night, but now it was getting worse. The storms in district two were never this bad. Though she was still suspicious of Emily and Hanna's refusal to go to the beach, the part about the weather obviously hadn't been a lie.

The sounds coming from outside the window were already unnerving enough. There was no way Alison could let herself slip into chronic nightmares from which she'd definitely wake up screaming. She hated being alone these days. Especially at night.

Ali took a deep breath and opened her bedroom door to more darkness. She stepped over the wood floors as quietly as a ghost and searched for Emily's room. Earlier she'd seen it at the end of the hall. Using the wall as support, she edged toward the door.

She gripped the doorknob and turned it gently, quietly, until a flash of lighting lit the house just long enough for her to make out a silhouette behind the door. Alison was so startled she fell back onto the floor as another round of thunder pounded at her ears.

"Ali, is that you?"

She knew that voice. It was then she realized that the silhouette behind the door was Emily.

"Em, you scared me!" she said a bit too loudly, but her voice was masked by thunder, anyway. "What were you doing standing right behind the door?"

"I was going to your room," Emily explained, helping Alison up off the floor.

Once she was up, she followed Em into her room. Every few seconds, lightning would illuminate their surroundings and allow her to see the girl beside her.

"Are we in the middle of a hurricane or something?" Ali asked, causing Emily to laugh. She didn't understand what was so funny about the question.

"No, not a hurricane. Just a little thunderstorm," Emily answered. She wrapped her arms around Alison's waist and held her close. "Don't you get those in district two?"

"Not like this. It's usually drizzly rain, not electricity shooting from the sky every minute," Ali said. "I'm not scared or anything. It's just different," she added to cover up the embarrassment of being unnerved by a so-called little storm.

"It's part of living on the coast. You learn to live with it," Emily said. Another round of thunder clapped and Ali felt Em's arms tighten around her. "I wouldn't blame you for being scared, though. The thunder sounds _a lot_ like a cannon."

"Aw, Em. Maybe I can make you forget about that for the night," she said, pulling the brunette into a kiss. Before the kisses could grow hungry, Emily pulled back.

"I wanted to ask you earlier what you think of district four so far," she said as she brushed a strand of Ali's hair away from her face.

"It's nice. Your family's nice," she answered, pecking Emily's lips again. "Your friends care about you a lot. Hanna gave me the speech I was expecting to hear from your dad."

"What do you mean?" Emily asked. "I told her she didn't have to evaluate you or whatever."

"It's okay, she's just protective. I wasn't sure what to think of her at first because I kind of got the feeling she hated me."

"I'm sure she doesn't hate you. She's just being Hanna," the brunette assured her.

"I know. But there is one thing she said that I want to ask you about," Ali said. She didn't continue until Emily intertwined their fingers in reassurance. "She said you were…fragile right now. If something happened earlier today, you can tell me. I'll try to make it better if I can."

"Oh, that," Emily said. Her voice sounded weary. "I freaked out earlier at the beach. It was like I was having a nightmare, but it happened during the day and I couldn't tell what was real. I thought I was in the lake with Mona..." Her voice faded out at the end of her thought and she hurriedly added a disclaimer. "Actually, I'm making it sound worse than it actually was. It was no big deal. It just scared Aria and Hanna."

"It sounds like a big deal," Alison said, stepping back so she could better see Emily's face.

"It's fine. I'm fine. I mean…I'll be fine, eventually," Emily said, as if she was trying to convince herself as much as Alison. "I keep thinking about what you said, that one day the good dreams will outnumber the bad ones. That's what I'm waiting for."

"They will one day. Until they do, I'll be here to wake you up from the bad ones," Ali told her, moving closer once again.

"I don't want to feel any of it. I just want to feel this," the brunette said. She connected their lips once again. They kissed and kissed until the storm outside was white noise in the background.

"Me too," Ali murmured between the kisses. Her skin was made of electricity. She was burning bright, warmed by a spark deep inside of her. At times like this, it was easy to believe everything would work out in time because she had everything she needed right here.

Emily hands moved down to Ali's waist. "I really love you," she said. The low tone of her voice was so hot, especially when it came in between deep breaths.

"Me too," Alison parroted again, distracted from the heat expanding over her body. "I mean you, not me," she said, laughing a little and then gasping as Emily kissed her neck. "So beautiful," she said, not caring if she sounded incoherent. Her hands pushed under the fabric of Emily's shirt and trailed over her abdomen, inching up.

"You are too. Always," Emily said. She tilted her head back, breathing deeply when Alison's hands moved further up.

"Bed," Alison breathed out. It wasn't until she'd pushed Emily against the mattress and lowered herself over her that she considered how fast this was happening. This was the first time they'd been alone- really alone, without all the cameras that were stuffed in every corner of the arena and training center. In the Capitol, the wandering hands had never gone too far.

"Is this okay? We can stop if you want," she said, looking down into Emily's dark eyes. "We have all the time in the world. There's no rush."

"I want this," she said. No hesitation in her voice. She leaned up and kissed Alison again, pulling her down on top of her. "But only if you're ready, too," she said.

"I am," she said, tracing a finger over Emily's perfect features. "I want this, too." She kissed her again on the lips before pulling the girl's shirt up and over her head.

* * *

Emily walked with Alison along the fence that surrounded the district. They joked that they were in search of the field of sunflowers Ali mentioned on that last day in the Capitol, when she was imagining how life would be in district four. The closest they were able to find was a stretch of tiny, yellow blooms.

They picked some and pinned them in Alison's hair. Emily decided that she needed to invest money in a camera so she could record each of these quiet, sweet moments and keep them forever.

"See, my prediction came true already," Ali boasted. "These are practically baby sunflowers. Not much difference, anyway."

"Whatever you say, Ali," Emily told her. She didn't think it was possible to feel any closer to the girl than she already did, but then last night had happened.

They had to scramble in the morning for fear that Pam or Wayne would catch them in the same room, twisted together, all clothes thrown on the floor. It was terrifying, for a moment, then the fear was over and they sat at breakfast, grinning at each other across the table.

"Hey, Em," Ali hummed, "Can we stop by the beach? I know what happened with Aria and Hanna, but I want to try something."

"I guess we can go," Emily said, tentatively. "I'll just stay out of the water this time."

They followed the sound of crashing waves until the grass gave way to sand dunes. They left footprints in the warm, white sand and neared the water's edge.

"It's gorgeous out here. No wonder you love it," Ali said.

_Well the Games took away that, didn't they?_ Emily thought as she shuffled her feet. She might've said it out loud if the day wasn't going so well. No need to ruin it with negativity.

"Notice I said that in the present tense," Ali said, taking Emily's hand. "I'm not letting the Capitol take this away from you. It's part of who you are."

The blonde guided her closer to the water. Kicking off their flip flops, they stood just close enough for the tips of waves to reach their toes.

Slowly, they stepped further in. When the water reached mid-calf, Emily's heartbeat started to pick up. "Ali, maybe this isn't a good idea."

"You're okay, Em. You're with me," Ali said as she wrapped her arms around Emily from behind. She rested her chin on the brunette's shoulder and said, "You don't have to go too far today. We'll take it slow and steady. But don't you get it? This is how we beat the Capitol."

"By recovering from the Games and moving on with our lives," Emily finished for her, nodding in agreement. Time would ease the pain, dull the memories, but it couldn't hurt to push the process to move a little faster. She was strong enough, especially with Alison here to support her.

So she waded further in, feeling the cool water against her thighs, then her waist. She blinked her eyes but no flashback came. Ali held onto her arm as she followed her into the water.

The two of them were more than survivors. Emily was sure that everything had worked out this way for a reason. Some force brought them together to this new life. Perhaps the pain had a reason, too. It was unbearable, but now they were met with the light at the end of the tunnel.

This happy ending was theirs to write. Hopefully it would last forever.

* * *

**That's a wrap! I really hope it was enjoyable. Thanks again to everyone. I know Emison on the show looks pretty hopeless right now, but there's always fanfic to dull the pain, right? I plan on starting some canon one-shots soon. It's easier for me to write and pay attention to detail in small doses. I hope y'all with stick with me as I continue to write :)**


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